All I Need
by Ravenclaw992
Summary: Gather around, Rumbellers! Intended to be a series of one-shots focusing completely on Rumbelle. Fair warning: spoilers for Season 3.
1. Just One Question

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or the characters of Rumpelstiltskin or Belle. The show and all it contains belongs solely to ABC while the characters previously mentioned are brought to life by the wonderful Robert Carlyle and Emile de Ravin. **_

_**Spoilers for all those that have not seen Season 3 of OUAT yet. Specifically, spoilers up to 3x06. You have been warned. **_

_**A/N: Just to make it clear from the start, this is going to be a series of one-shots based around Rumbelle. I have written a few stories for Rumbelle already and wanted to keep writing for them without diving into a huge project. Mainly because my time for writing is strained with my other stories as it is. So, I plan to write some Rumbelle one-shots instead. If anyone has any suggestions about what they might like to see in a one-shot, I'd be happy to consider it. **_

_**Enjoy! **_

_Just One Question_

_Storybrooke, ME_

The town had grown unusually, blessedly quiet ever since their crew had returned from the bowels of Neverland. It was a welcome change from the never-ending drama that mounted after the breaking of the curse.

Peter Pan was subdued-not dead, but trapped forevermore in a heavy sleeping curse, courtesy of Regina's urging. Charming had managed to come back with his family to Storybrooke while Hook had remarkably taken his place upon the founding of the New Neverland. The pirate had ultimately accepted that he would likely never be with Emma romantically because her heart belonged to Neal. Staying in Neverland and allowing her father to still be in her life was his way of saying _I love you _just one time. Henry was safe. The Charmings were trying for another baby, to make up for the all they had missed with Emma.

And Rumpel...

Rumpel was alive. Breathing, walking, talking, _alive. _The relief had shaken him to the core. After all, he had gone to Neverland in preparation to sacrifice his life for Henry. Bae was still nowhere near to forgiving him, no matter how hard he groveled, but at least he had Belle.

He was going slow, taking the time to develop their relationship properly. Even now, nearly a month later, they were enjoying a peaceful nighttime walk under the stars, their bellies full with Granny's burgers, savoring each other's company. And yet it was times like these, amidst the flanking shadows and soft cries of the surrounding woods, that he mused over the events of Neverland the most.

"What are you thinking so terribly hard about?" Belle's arm was looped through his and she insistently tugged on it, drawing him back to the present moment.

Oh, his beautiful Belle. How could he have fallen for the shadow's trick when that false manifestation of Belle never held a candle to the real thing? That Belle paled in comparison to this one, the one he loved so dearly. _That one _lacked her natural sincerity, her ceaseless fire, everything that truly made her Belle. He leaped headfirst into those earnest sapphire pools and felt his lips mirroring the carefree smile she saved for his benefit.

"You," he responded easily. It wasn't a lie by any means. He lifted a hand to brush aside a loose spiral of her chestnut hair, the cloud of darkness framing her face so tantalizingly soft. Tenderly, he caressed her cheek. Ever since Neverland, he appreciated every moment he earned with Belle and thus started acting more confident about expressing his love for her. "Always you, Belle."

"What about me?"

Belle's breath fogged the air between them, a result of the chilly Maine temperature. His arm sliced through the air by her head and a scarlet scarf draped over it, which he then wrapped snugly around Belle's neck to grant her warmth. In a way, he was stalling in answering her question and he knew she knew it. Belle read him as fluently as she would any other book.

"Just one question," he drawled carefully. Currently, his brain was striving to figure out how to tell her what was constantly burrowing under his skin. Belle's brows rose in speculation.

"Just one?" Rumpel smiled sheepishly. Their footsteps echoed along the darkened street as they carried on their way.

"For now," he admitted.

After that, he quickly fell into silence, the question yet to reach his tongue. Every time he tried to form it, it did not please him. It did not sound right in his mind. This was not an easy proposal to make. Belle had enough courtesy to be patient,though she must have sensed his growing inner frustration. The smile-sheepish or not-had slipped into a scowl, his forehead marred with concentration. Belle's hand slid over his arm, coaxing away the tension.

"Rumpel, you know you can tell me anything. You can ask me anything."

He was comforted by her reassurance. Of course he knew deep down that he could tell Belle anything; she was his sounding board, his confidant, never judging him no matter what dark secrets he divulged. He trusted her more than anyone in town, but the words stuck to the roof of his mouth. Logically, he forced himself to focus on one tree instead of the entire overwhelming forest, sever it into bite-sized pieces, take it one step at a time.

"When I was in Neverland, Pan distracted me with a vision of you," he began. Belle listened raptly, hanging on his every word and making him feel like he was the only man in the world. He fidgeted under the spotlight. _Keep calm and carry on, _he recited in his head. "At first, I thought you were a figment of my subconscious, coming to haunt me. I knew you weren't really there, but everything you said, I believed myself. It was a trap, one of Pan's compelling mind-games to disqualify me from his much larger game. In reality, it was his shadow and, wearing your face, it offered me happiness. If I took your hand, if I gave in to that selfishness...well, I never found out, in any case."

Belle's rosy lips parted, a sympathetic look crossing her face.

"You stayed to save Henry. I'm proud of you," she said. No one had ever uttered those words in his presence before, not even his father. To hear it fall from his true love's lips-_I'm proud of you-_it made his heart melt.

But, no, this was not the end of his tale! _Focus, _he scolded himself. _Tell her what you really mean to say, now, before you lose your confidence. _He paused in step underneath the glow of one of the streetlamps and Belle followed suit.

"No, that's not my point. Belle, everything I ever desired to have with you, everything I thought I was not worthy of, the shadow presented in front of me. It made the promise that I could return to you and that we could...have our own family together."

He did not dare glance up to gauge Belle's reaction, not yet. First he needed to get this out in the open. He had given it a great deal of thought over the past month of courting her and he had come to realize just how much he wanted it to be true. Rumpel sucked in a deep breath of cold air, felt it tunnel its way into his lungs, and took ahold of Belle's delicate hands. They were so soft and warm. _Here goes, _he thought.

"My question, therefore, is: would that be something you would want? Would you ever dream of having a family with me?"

Belle looked like she was struggling to swallow down a giggle, her lips doing a funny quiver. He wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Technically, that's two questions," she pointed out. The teasing note was short-lived, her features writhing with thoughtfulness. He silently begged her to say yes. It had taken incredible strength on his part to summon the courage to ask this sort of personal question. Gods, what ever would he do if she refused it? "I admire your courage in asking me."

"But...?" He heard it; it was there. Or was he only paranoid, convinced the negativity must be coming since he earned it from everyone else?

Belle tilted her head condescendingly, the glow of the lamp bringing out the redder strands of her hair. She squeezed his hands tightly.

"Your self-esteem needs improving, Rumpel. There is no 'but'. The fact that you were brave enough to make this proposal is a good thing. And my answer is _yes_. I love you and it would only bring me happiness to be able to share a family with you."

Joy seized his beating heart and suddenly Belle was in his arms, her fingers delved into his hair and her head tilted back in offering of a kiss. His lips desperately sought out hers, pressing perfectly together like two pieces of a puzzle. There was nothing sweeter than the taste of Belle's kiss.

When they finally came up for air, they were both red-faced and breathing heavily, their minds intoxicated by their surge of happiness.

"You want to start this tonight?" Belle inquired quietly, her long black lashes batting dreamily as her head rested on his shoulder. He licked his lips nervously, cradling her taste on his tongue, all the while understanding her implication all too well.

"Perhaps that would be a bit too fast. I want to do this the right way," he said. This, too, he had been considering for a long time. It was partly the reason he was so distraught upon saying goodbye to her before sailing off to Neverland with the intention of never returning.

To Belle's delight and wonder, he gradually sank to one knee. The ground was slick and frozen, his leg was screaming with discomfort, but he didn't care. He would gladly walk through fire if Belle only commanded it.

From his pocket, he withdrew a velvet black box. The contents were no mystery, but Belle was speechless nonetheless. He took one of her hands and kissed her ivory palm.

"Belle, if there's anything I have learned in Neverland, it is that time is very precious and I never want to imagine living without you again. You are my strength, my goodness, and my heart. Will you marry me?"

Belle's blue eyes shimmered and he realized there were tears welling under her eyelids an instant before one trailed down over her cheek. Panic set in. He never meant to make her cry. Most women who cried in front of him did not do so for good reasons. But Belle calmed him with a sturdy hand on his shoulder, a smile rising out of her fallen tears.

"It's okay, Rumpel. I'm crying because I am _happy_, not sad. Yes. Yes, I will marry you," she declared. Before he could ask if she was sure, she dragged him to his feet and laid another kiss on his lips. Every nerve in his body sang joyfully as he placed the ring on her finger and kissed her back twice as passionately.

The chill of the air could not hope to touch them as, arm in arm, they finally headed for home.

...

_**For those who are wondering, the title of this series of one-shots comes from the song of the same name by Within Temptation (All I Need). I couldn't think of a proper name for this series, and I happened to be listening to that song while writing this, so I decided to go with it. In any case, I think it fits nicely. **_

_**I will never tire of Rumbelle fluff. (-; So, there you have it, the first one-shot for Rumbelle. I have an idea for another one already in mind, but again if anyone wishes to see something happen in a one-shot, feel free to let me know. It's all Rumbelle, all the time. **_


	2. Needle

_**A/N: Here is the second one-shot.I think you'll find this one to be a bit more humorous and therefore enjoyable. Truth be told, I'm hoping this concept comes up in the show. I give my thanks to all those that have read and reviewed the first one-shot. Hopefully, there will be plenty more Rumbelle moments to come. **_

_**Needle**_

The golden bell above the pawnshop's door chimed when Emma Swan entered the shop, a single melodious note to signal her presence. She was on a mission: to find a good gift for Henry to celebrate his safe return from Neverland.

Even before her feet carried her into the heart of the shop, a list spiraled through her head in terms of what her son might like. There was the Mickey Mouse phone gathering dust in the display case to her right, and there was a series of guitars hanging up on the wall...a hand-painted tea set, a canoe, two creepy puppets that sent chills down her spine...a wand...

She had to keep in mind that there was a limit to how much she could spend, but maybe she could convince Rumpelstiltskin to give her a discount considering the fact that Henry was his grandson.

Speak of the devil...

The dealmaker was nowhere in sight. Granted, he had been spending a lot less time in his pawnshop since returning from Neverland, instead opting to spend that time in the company of Belle or Bae. Emma approached the front counter, peering over the register. She was on guard, half-expecting him to pop up any moment now. With magic at his disposal, he had a nasty habit of doing that quite a lot.

The black curtain fluttered, attracting her attention. Maybe he was in the back and simply ignoring her. She had entered the shop enough times and on several harrowing occasions to feel confident enough to duck behind the counter, making a beeline for the curtain that separated the front of the shop from the back. She wasn't exactly the patient type of customer.

Her fingers grazed the edge of the curtain, prepared to peel it back...

"Ooh! Ugh, Belle," the unmistakable, caramelized voice floated through the black curtain. Emma stalled, her fingertips hanging onto the thin layer of cloth. Curiosity made her cock her head to listen closely.

"It'll be so much easier if you stop wiggling," Belle responded. What the hell was going on back there? Emma was torn between peeking through the curtain and staying safely in the darkness. She was undeniably intrigued, even though she felt a bit guilty for eavesdropping.

"Belle, you're going too fast! Gentle!"

"I'm nearly done now. If you'll just let me finish..."

The color drained from Emma's hard-edged face. Her mind inevitably supplied the picture that was denied her due to the barrier of the curtain. Ever so slowly, so as not to make the curtain ripple and alert the two lovers to her spying, Emma loosened her grasp on the curtain and took wary steps backwards, trying hard to mask the sound of her footfalls on the floorboards.

"Honestly, Rumpel, you're being ridiculous! Keep it...right...there. Don't make me get those handcuffs..." _Oh, wow, _Emma thought, her mind going numb with shock by what she was overhearing. No longer caring for her footfalls, she rushed to the door and slipped out of the pawnshop before she heard any more details.

Never mind Henry's gift. She would go to Clark's and buy him a basket of Apollo bars instead.

* * *

"Ooh! Ah! Ow! Careful, Belle!" Rumpelstiltskin would not quit groaning or struggling. Really, this wouldn't take so long if he only submitted freely. Belle had little sympathy for him.

"As I told you before, if you _stop wiggling, _it won't hurt so much," she scolded, though her voice did not rise. His body squirmed over the mattress that belonged in the back room of his shop. She lost track of how many times she repositioned his foot in her lap. In precise swoops and strokes, she touched a gleaming silver needle to the sole of his shoe. Her arm moved in a rhythmic pattern, in and out, up and down, back and forth."_He's _not complaining."

Belle angled her head toward the shadow on the wall. It was almost a dim caricature of Rumpelstiltskin's lean form. It was hardly an ordinary shadow. Not only did it belong to Rumpelstiltskin, but the shadow possessed the essence of life, dancing jovially and slithering among every available surface despite the lack of a solid silver needle Belle handled was enchanted to rejoin a lost shadow to its owner.

Rumpel rested his head back on the pillow and muttered something incoherent under his breath.

"Yes, for one simple reason: he's making an effort to get in your good graces," he griped. A hiss escaped through his teeth as another stretch of the transparent black shadow was stitched to the bottom of Rumpel's shoe. According to him, the act of reattaching a lost shadow was nearly as painful as slicing it from the body in the first place.

Belle paused with the needle hovering in midair. A pang of remorse flooded through her and she laid a gentle hand upon his thigh.

"Rumpel, if I am hurting you-" She was about to suggest they take a break from the sewing, having been at it for over an hour, but Rumpel sat upright in bed and clasped her hand.

"No, it's fine. Nothing you do will ever hurt me, Belle. Promise. Better to get this done and over with. I have a mailbox full of written complaints about my shadow from the people of Storybrooke. The wretched thing is more of a trickster than I am."

Belle saw movement from the corner of her eye. The shadow lurched its head-she imagined it to be sticking its tongue out, if shadows even had tongues to begin with. It thrust its arm out of the wall and suddenly Rumpel's foot was no longer in Belle's lap. Rumpel was sprawled on the floor, having literally been shoved aside by his shadow. It was remarkable and had magic written all over it. The shadow clutched its sides, as though it were laughing hard enough to make its sides ache.

"Why, you little-" Rumpel rose from the floor and snatched up his old cane with blinding speed. Baring his teeth, he lifted the cane high above his head-

"Rumpel," Belle cautioned. Leaping to her feet, she grabbed one end of the cane before Rumpel let it swing. Never mind the fact that he had done it before and had the bruises to prove it. "What did we say about beating our shadows?"

Rumpel seethed, his breath coming in quick gasps through his nose. Still, he allowed her to confiscate the cane.

"Those who resort to beating their shadows only hurt themselves in the process...and that's not healthy," he said, as he had more than once. It was his mantra for the day.

With Belle's guidance, he settled on the bed again and propped his foot in her lap. Childishly, he stuck his tongue out at his shadow, if only to gain the upper hand. _He'd better be careful, _Belle thought with the slightest hint of amusement, her needle diving through the air. _Or else his shadow will think it funny to grab his tongue next. Then what will he do? Shadows don't have tongues. _

It had been a tremendous feat, cornering Rumpel's shadow for the purpose of sewing it back on his body. It took them the better half of a day to scour through Storybrooke in search of it. In the end, they had discovered it entertaining itself among the marvels of Rumpel's pawnshop. After that, Rumpel thought it a brilliant idea to pursue it through the shop and zap it with magic the longer it eluded him. The poor man had several aches and bruises from colliding into the corners of display cases and tripping over items that the shadow made fall off the walls.

Belle had been the one to win over the shadow. She figured it would harbor the same fondness for her that Rumpelstiltskin did, since it was genuinely a piece of him. Soothingly she called out to the shadow and it had come, practically eating out of the palm of her hand.

It was a strange experience, giving a shadow a kiss on the cheek. It was cool as a frozen river and airy, as though she were pressing her lips to the thinnest, finest silk. From the way Rumpel caressed the same spot on his cheek afterwards, she suspected he felt her kiss.

Belle completed the last few necessary strokes. Then she patted Rumpel's foot and watched the shadow on the wall lose its life-like quality. She was almost sad to see it return to its previous state.

"All done," she confirmed. He removed his foot from her lap and pulled himself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, his hips lightly brushing hers. "Now, was that so bad?"

"Depends. Do I earn a kiss for every bruise my shadow has given me?" Belle blushed in the face of his sudden boldness, but she admired it all the same. Just to please him, she gave him a kiss on the cheek-not the shadow's cheek this time. "Thank you. For both the kiss and for helping me with this grueling task. I have a feeling it wouldn't have gone so smoothly if I were the one doing the sewing."

Belle folded her hands in her lap and smiled.

"You're welcome." Rumpelstiltskin lifted his foot up to examine the bottom of his shoe. He rubbed a palm along the sole. Then he looked at her with a mixture of amazement and inspiration.

"Belle, have you ever considered giving sewing lessons?"

...


	3. Run

_**A/N: Hello, readers. Here's another sweet Rumbelle one-shot for you to devour. I've wanted to write this scene for a while. I can't wait when it actually happens on the show (because I refuse to believe Rumbelle will never be together again). So, enjoy! **_

_**Run**_

It was an unremarkable day in Storybrooke. The sun rose early in the East and it would set in the West that evening. The clock tower chimed every hour to mark the passing of time. The citizens ventured to their businesses and carried on with their daily routines. The cloaking spell stayed intact, forging a protective dome of invisible magic around the town.

Belle had taken to frequenting Granny's Diner in the afternoons. Often a book would accompany her visits while Granny served her plates of her best-cooked hamburgers, always insisting she needed to put more meat on her bones. For Belle, the pickles were free of charge. Belle's attention was snagged by tales of noble knights, daring princesses, and enthralling adventures in a land other than this one. Burying her nose in a good book was how she coped with Rumpelstiltskin being away...and possibly never coming back.

_We may sit in our library and yet be in all corners of the earth. _Belle turned another page.

For once, it was difficult for her eyes to take in the boldly printed words on the page. Her mind wandered, inevitably succumbing to more sorrowful thoughts than the notion of love at first sight. Every day she missed Rumpelstiltskin a little more. Oftentimes, she would go down to his shop or visit his home just to feel close to him, but it wasn't the same. It only made her long for him by her side. _So this is what it feels like when you lose your true love, _she thought glumly.

She was sitting inside Granny's Diner, solely occupying a red pleather booth in the far corner when the front door burst open. A chilly gust of wind swirled over the black and white tiles. A parade of feet marched in, the sudden ruckus making Granny scowl and Belle tear her gaze from the pages of her book.

The seven dwarves filed into the diner, more rowdy than usual. What was even more alarming was how they ignored Granny's scolding of letting the cold air in and charged straight for Belle's table in the back.

"Belle! There you are," Grumpy exclaimed, leading the procession of short men. Belle exhaled softly, tiredly, and placed a crimson silk ribbon between the pages, marking her spot in the book. Then she gave them her undivided attention.

"What's wrong?"

Ever since Rumpelstiltskin, the Charmings, and Regina left Storybrooke to find Henry, Belle was more or less nominated their new leader. It did not matter that she was the Dark One's beloved; they seemed to recognize her as a genuine hero. The amount of respect she unconditionally earned from the dwarves was both surprising and heartwarming. They needed a hero and she was more than willing to help.

But this time, Grumpy was smiling, not frowning as was the case recently. Something usually went wrong in Storybrooke, especially when the town's citizens dared to hope for a shred of peace. Today, Grumpy was smiling from ear to ear.

"This time, it's good news. Great news, even! They're back!"

Belle's breath caught in the hollow of her throat, ceasing to flow. Her heart fluttered in her chest. A numb feeling started in the fingertips that cradled her book. There was no question of the group of people Grumpy was talking about. There was only one group whose return they were anxiously awaiting.

Could it be true? Dare she hope?

Grumpy must have registered her shock, for he lurched toward the table and sharply rapped his knuckles on the tabletop, bringing her swiftly back down to earth. He was oozing happiness.

"What are you still doing here, sister? Didn't you hear me? They're back from Neverland! All of them! Go! It's about time you got your happy ending," he encouraged her, even so far as helping her rise from the booth.

Belle could barely hear past the blood rushing in her ears, her mind spinning in one thousand different directions at once. Her legs were Jell-O, shaking and unable to fully support her weight. She nearly forgot her book on the table, she was so preoccupied with Grumpy's announcement.

"Thank you," she cried out, throwing her arms around Grumpy in an ecstatic embrace. He was on the verge of toppling over as he hugged her back.

"Go," he repeated forcefully.

Belle took his advice and dashed for the exit, immensely thankful that this was one day she did not choose to wear heels. With the book swinging in her hand, she sprinted down the street, passing Modern Fashions and the clock shop and the clock tower that hosted her library.

_Run, _she commanded her legs. _Run, run, run, don't stop. _

She never stopped once. Not when her breath was whipped away with the wind, not when people passed her by on the street, not even when one of her flats was in danger of flying off her foot. All she could think about was getting to the dock and finding Rumpelstiltskin. It was like an unbreakable silver string was looped around her waist and pulling her towards him.

_Oh, please let him be there,_she pleaded with all her heart as the soles of her shoes pounded on the pavement. Her legs pumped harder than she could ever remember. _Please let him be alive. _

_Run, run, run. _

The minute she reached the docks, red-faced and lungs aching for breath, she noticed the glorious sight of the Jolly Roger docked there, the wind rippling through its sails. A group of people were gathered on the dock. From where she was standing, Belle recognized Red as she suffocated Snow White in one of her bear hugs. There was Charming, Emma, Henry, Bae, Hook, Regina, and...

_Rumpel..._

Belle raced along the wooden dock, heading for the tightly knit group of people. Snippets of conversation were carried with the wind, but her brain was currently unable to process any of the words. The only thing she repeated in her head was _run, run, run-_

There he was! His back was facing her, clad in the dragonskin he habitually wore in their world. She willed him to turn around, to let her glimpse his face. It had been a week at most, but it felt like an eternity since she last saw him, held him, kissed him.

"Rumpel," she gasped when she was near enough. Every muscle in his body tensed. At last, he spun around and her heart squeezed with joy.

"Belle?"

Relief poured over his handsome face, incredible love for her igniting in those deep brown eyes, his arms opening up to accept her. She crashed into his chest, her lips instantly seeking his. Gods, he was convinced he would never see her again. The strength of their kiss made her feel more whole than she had in days and she wished it would never break. She clung to him desperately, savoring the taste of his lips on her mouth.

After their lips parted, she lowered her head on his shoulder and he held her gently for a long time.

"I knew I would see you again," she whispered.

He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head, his fingers delving into her rich strands. Then she felt him prying her away from his body and she glanced up at him in confusion. It took great effort to take a step away from him, her nails scrabbling over the tough leather; she was reluctant to give him up just yet. Not after they had just reunited.

"There's something I need to show you," he said, avoiding her eyes. That was precisely what he did whenever he was feeling ashamed or particularly guilty of some dark action. _Oh, no..._

Dread coursed through her veins. What wasn't he telling her yet? Why must there be further complications to taint their reunion? His hand slipped inside his vest and something glinted in the sunlight. It was his dagger.

Silently, he extended it to her in offering.

Belle hesitantly took the blade by the ornately-carved handle and wondered whether he was granting her control over him. It was the last thing she wanted in their relationship. She did not want power over Rumpelstiltskin; she did not want to sentence him to be her prisoner as he once imprisoned her in his castle. But something about the dagger caught her eye before any objections rolled over her tongue.

There was no name inscribed there. Nothing but solid, jagged, cold metal. Rumpelstiltskin's name was meant to be engraved in the dagger, thereby tying all his power to the blade. She flipped the dagger over, but the other side was just as sleek.

No name.

But that meant...

"Your curse has been broken," she said. The next time she studied his face, he seemed to be washed in a new light. His features were softer, his brown eyes lighter, his shoulders not strained with grief. His heart had been emptied of all darkness.

Rumpel took back the blade, turning it around in his palms.

"The prophecy came true. Henry proved to be my undoing...just in a way that I had not anticipated," he explained, casting a grateful look toward the boy. "A part of me did die in Neverland, Belle. The dark part of me. I only pray you will be able to love me without the beast."

Silly man. Forever insecure and convinced he was unworthy of her love.

Belle claimed the dagger once more and proceeded to toss it into the depths of the harbor. It would never bind another host to the Dark One curse again. With a warm smile, Belle tipped her head back and waited for him to seal the deal.

"You should know by now. I love you and always will, no matter what form you take," she assured him, entwining her arms around his neck. A shudder passed through his chest, a breath being abruptly released. It was as though he was afraid she would say otherwise. He kissed her again, this time chastely and with the promise of the longevity of their relationship.

"Aww..."

Snow cooed in amazement, her hands clasped together over her heart. Charming and Henry grinned in approval of their happy reunion. Emma was scraping her boot across the dock, not looking like she wanted to be there to witness such a personal moment. Bae was staring off into the distance, offering them a moment of privacy. Regina pretended to stick a finger down her throat in disgust.

"You know, I hear the food at Granny's is to die for," Rumpel stated briskly, glaring at the numerous people flanking him. Hint, hint. Snow bit the inside of her cheek and allowed Charming to escort her away along the dock with Emma, Bae, and Henry in tow. Hook stopped shining his silver hook and leered at Regina.

"What do you say, love? Shall we go for a drink or two?" Regina rolled her eyes dramatically.

"After sleeping next to the Charmings for a week? Make it ten," she snapped and strode off after the rest of the group. After everyone was gone and the two of them were alone on the dock, Rumpel returned to admiring his beauty.

From here on in, Belle vowed never to let him slip through her fingers again. Wherever he went, she would gladly follow.

"Now, where were we, sweetheart?" And he bent his head to kiss her again.

...

_**I'm glad there are people out there who are enjoying these one-shots. I'm only too happy to continue writing for one of my favorite television couples. I have a whole slew of plans for future one-shots, so I hope you guys keep reading. (-; **_

_**Also, I want to thank those that have reviewed for my previous one-shots. Every word means a great deal to me and I love making others happy with my writing. Forever Rumbelle! Thank you Grace5231973, NarnianGriff23, NinaGold, Guest45 (I'm sure your wishes will be granted eventually), and Ptite Mac. We'll see what happens next time for our beauty and beast. **_


	4. This is Halloween

_**A/N: This one is a massive one. My apologies early on if the length is too much. And I know Halloween has come and gone (is it the end of November already?), but I wanted to try my hand at this sort of scheme for Rumbelle. So, happy (late) Halloween and I hope everyone enjoys reading about Rumbelle's adventure here. **_

_**This Is Halloween**_

It was time for Halloween in the town of Storybrooke.

The dry leaves on the trees had changed color from green to yellow to orange to red before sprinkling down over the streets. The shelves in the candy aisle of Clark's general store were stocked with marshmallow pumpkins, giants bags of mixed chocolate, and candy corn. Pumpkins crowded every porch and walkway on every street while orange and black decorations hung in every window. Children teased each other about the boogeyman.

Even Granny was getting into the holiday spirit, forcing all employees (i.e. Red) to wear a witch hat and selling pumpkin pie as an every day special throughout the month of October. "Special" in Granny's language simply meant more expensive without the food necessarily tasting any better than usual.

Oh, yes, the Halloween spirit was contagious. There was only one mishap. Belle had no idea what Halloween was. Never had she experienced such a perplexing holiday.

She walked the streets in childish awe of the colorful decorations, even stopping from time to time to cup her hands around her eyes to peer into a store window and examine pumpkins, witches, and skeletons. She felt particularly sympathetic toward the decoration of a witch that appeared to have driven her broom into a tree.

The holiday was completely unfamiliar to her. Even the name did not ring a bell, though children screeched it with joy. _Hall-o-ween. _How odd. For the life of her, she could not fathom why people would carve silly faces into an oversized pumpkin and then leave it outside on their porch. She failed to grasp what the concept of the boogeyman was when a group of children passed on a rumor about it.

Well, if anyone in this town possessed knowledge about this Halloween business, it would be Rumpelstiltskin. There was little he did not understand, having lived several centuries and stepped foot in various lands.

Belle casually entered his shop and smiled when she saw him standing behind one of the display cases. He glanced up from the tea he was pouring. Somehow, he always knew when she would stop by.

"Ah, Belle," he drawled pleasurably. "Just in time for tea."

Belle draped her coat on a hook next to the door and crossed the short distance to Rumpel. Carefully, he picked up one of the teacups and held it out to her. She sipped it gingerly and moaned. He made such exquisite tea. She would stick by her claim no matter how many times he insisted her tea was better.

There were no Halloween decorations inside the pawnshop or front window from what Belle could see. Though, there was a jar filled with bite-sized candy sitting not even a foot away from his hand. Considering it was less than half full, she suspected his hand dipped into it once or twice.

"Something on your mind, sweetheart?"

Rumpel's voice was tainted with concern. Had she been that noticeably distant? He reached over the display case and brushed a patch of hair from her forehead, afterwards letting his fingertips trace the curve of her cheek. She turned her head and kissed his palm.

"Have you ever heard of...Halloween?"

Rumpel made a confused face. The way he was staring at her intently made her think she said something out of the ordinary.

"Yes, of course," he finally said. Belle frowned. Well, it was nice to know that the knowledge was so basic to him, given his tone. She never thought she would be jealous of his false memories.

"_I _don't know what it is," she said, her shoulders burdened with despair. Belle did not like being kept in the darkness about any topic; her mind craved answers and books like living beings craved water. Now that she had stumbled onto this foreign concept of Halloween, she longed to learn everything about it.

To her bafflement, Rumpel returned to his tea and chuckled over the rim. Why was he giggling?

"One would assume you would consult a book first," he commented.

Immediately, Belle pictured her library under the clock tower and wondered whether any of the books she had stored on the shelves contained information about Halloween. Checking a book for reference might be more logical, but it would mean more to her if Rumpel was the one to grant her that precious knowledge. She trusted his intellect more than any other in this town.

"I would like to hear it from you," she requested.

An exasperated look tranformed his face, as if someone had never genuinely asked him to share his wisdom before. The admiration he only ever saved for her was now reflected tenfold in those deep pools of chocolate brown.

"Me?" He pressed a hand to his chest, almost directly over his beating heart. She nodded confidently. For a few minutes after that, he was deeply pensive. Then he straightened his shoulders and dipped his head courteously, the way he might have done upon accepting a dire mission. "In that case, I shall teach you everything I know about Halloween."

Belle could not contain her satisfaction. She hastily rounded the display case and wrapped her arms around Rumpelstiltskin, whispering her gratitude into his silk dress shirt. He was stunned for a second by the intimate gesture, but ended up returning her hug, handling her in the manner of delicate porcelain.

"Anything for you, Belle," he promised. Untangling his limbs from her waist, he ventured over to the jar of candy and plucked one out. It was thin and contained in a bright red-orange wrapper, labeled Kit-Kat. "Your first lesson: _this _is the equivalent of turkey on Thanksgiving. If children are lucky, they fill their bellies with a buffet of assorted candy by the time the night is done."

He tossed her the Kit-Kat and she caught it in her palms. _Kit-Kat, _she mouthed the unfamiliar phrase as her eyes scrolled over the printed white words. Under his scrutiny, she peeled back the wrapper to expose two sticks of chocolate. Experimentally, she stuck the end of one in her mouth and chewed. It was chocolately, it was crispy, it was...

"So good," she murmured around the lump of chocolate in her mouth, much to Rumpel's amusement. Her head dropped back and her eyes drifted closed as she savored the piece of Kit-Kat rolling on her tongue. Feverishly, she gobbled down the rest and felt disappointed to witness the empty, chocolate-stained wrapper. "Oh, that is delicious."

For himself, Rumpel selected a sapphire candy called Crunch.

"Some say the magic of chocolate and the bliss it unfolds is better than love," he said, taking a bite out of his chocolate. From the blossoming pleasure on his face, Belle could almost believe it.

...

After feasting on the rest of the candy in the jar, with Skittles now being Belle's favorite choice of candy, Rumpel led her to Modern Fashions, the little clothing shop not too far from Granny's Diner. There was a whole section inside devoted to colorful outfits that Rumpel called "costumes."

Belle perused the rack, coming across rich velvet, wine-colored dresses for medieval princesses, menacingly dark capes for vampires, and a police outfit that should have been illegal to wear due to the amount of skin it showed. If it was red, then Ruby would have loved it.

"You see, Belle, children and adults alike dress in these costumes every year. For one night, you can be anything you wish to be. A young girl from the lower class can be recognized as a princess, anyone can be a law enforcer without the degree, a law-abiding citizen may dress as a swashbuckling pirate. You name it."

Anything? Belle considered her options.

"Even you?"

The suggestion, though mainly a quip on her part, was worth the bewildered expression on Rumpel's face. The way the color drained away from his cheeks, she might as well have declared her "costume" would consist of her parading through the streets naked on horseback.

"Actually..." The shock faded little by little. "If Red's rumor mill is to be believed, there will be a number of children wanting to dress up like me this Halloween. Some with suits and canes, some with leather and gold body paint...though, I guarantee they'll overlook the gold tooth. Consider me Storybrooke's version of Freddy Krueger."

Belle's face pinched with puzzlement. She replaced a costume of a Greek goddess on the rack.

"Who's Freddy Krueger?" Rumpel's fingers tightened over the golden head of his cane. His mouth opened and closed, as if he were unsure how to respond.

"I'll explain later," he said. He looked troubled, so Belle decided to drop the subject and continued browsing through the racks.

She couldn't resist placing a velvet black witch's hat on her head. The silky green ribbon adorning it was a tad long, dangling in Belle's eyes, but otherwise it was a nice fit. Rumpel's eyes widened in approval and he eagerly complimented her by claiming she was the most enchanting witch he had ever come across.

It was settled, at least in her mind. She would buy it and wear it tonight on Halloween.

Belle twirled the extensive piece of green silk around her finger and didn't notice the sharp clicking of high heels until it was vastly approaching their aisle. When Belle felt someone watching them, she turned her head and her stomach dropped.

"Oh, don't tell me you're corrupting your little bluebell with magic, too?"

Regina stood only a few paces away, arms boldly crossed under her breasts and lips pulled into her signature pout. The ex-Mayor glared at Belle's hat. Belle slipped it off her head.

"Don't tell me: you're shopping for a new cauldron," Rumpel snippily returned, pasting on a malicious grin just for Regina.

Belle could tell he took great pleasure in pressing Regina's buttons. No doubt it was quite easy to master from where he was standing. He dared to take a graceful step forward, causing Regina to take one step back. Another step forward, another step back. It was their own unique form of dance.

"Careful. Wouldn't want someone like Miss Swan dropping a house on you and making off with your _lov-e-ly_ shoes," he added, pointing to Regina's feet.

As though on cue, Regina's priceless black stilettos tapped on the linoleum floor. Apparently, she didn't appreciate the witch jokes. Belle used the witch hat to hide her smile, lest Regina bring down her wrath.

"Rumpelstiltskin is teaching me about Halloween," Belle explained to Regina, hoping to clear the issue before any more witch jokes surfaced.

Regina's ebony eyes flashed with spite. Whenever they trained on Belle, they felt like two bottomless black holes sucking out her soul. It was a shame because Belle could only imagine how beautiful those eyes would be if they ever expressed happiness or love.

Everyone had a true love, didn't they?

"Spoiler alert," Regina spoke solely to Belle. She hooked her thumb in Rumpel's direction. "The imp is the boogeyman. Who would have thought it?" Rumpel became visibly tense.

"You're just jealous because, despite my shady reputation, children still find the courage to ring my doorbell on Halloween," he sapt back. Oh, he was dripping with mockery, feeding off Regina's wavering hurt. "Three guesses why, dearie. In case it escaped your narrow-minded notice, Your Majesty, I happen to be the richest man in this town. Children like me on Halloween because I give out full-sized candy bars."

He had to hold himself back from attaching _ha-ha _to the end of that sentence.

"It's not my fault the greedy children of this town aren't interested in my nutritious apples," Regina said defensively.

Belle paid severe attention to the witch hat, wringing it between her hands. From the brief information Rumpel fed her about Halloween, she suspected giving apples instead of candy was a bad thing. A crime, even. And Regina's apples were anything but nutritious. It bothered Belle that she might actually hand those out to children. The story of Henry's near-death experience due to an apple turnover came to mind.

"Is there something you wish to say, _princess?_"

Regina stared hard at Belle, whose hands were covered in tiny velvet hairs from rubbing the hat so fiercely. There were many things she wished to say to Regina Mills, formerly the Evil Queen, but she had to be the better person here. Stooping to Regina's level would not solve anything.

"Just one thing," Belle admitted calmly, holding her chin high. Rumpel's gaze warily darted between his true love and his nemesis. "Happy Halloween, Regina."

The Evil Queen's eyebrows skyrocketed. Then she snorted derisively and spun on her heel, aiming for the exit of the shop as if her back end were on fire. Belle had to fight the urge to giggle, especially when Rumpel patted her on the shoulder approvingly.

"What costume does Regina usually choose?" Belle's curiosity won out once more. Rumpel's lips quirked with that old, secretive smile she glimpsed often while spending her days in his castle.

"Regina's an outfit repeater, I'm afraid. I have yet to meet anyone who pulls off the character of the Wicked Witch of the West so well."

...

Before they returned to Rumpel's house, they stopped at Clark's store to purchase a monster of a pumpkin. Rumpel was determined to impress Belle by carrying it all the way up the walk and into the kitchen, regardless of the agony shooting from his bad leg. The pumpkin made a thunderous noise when it collapsed onto the kitchen table.

Rumpel took a moment to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Rummaging through his kitchen drawers, he retrieved a razor-sharp knife and a silver ladle while Belle dutifully laid out newspaper across the table.

"Belle, this activity is called pumpkin carving. I trust you've seen pumpkins outside houses?" Belle confirmed that she had. Each one had been unique-some silly, some meant to be scary-and she nearly gushed in her fascination. Rumpel picked up the knife. "The pumpkin becomes a decoration. You can even place a candle inside and make it glow in the night. But, we're getting ahead of ourselves. First comes the task of carving."

Rumpelstiltskin brutally stabbed the pumpkin with the knife, a few inches from the coarse brown stem. Belle watched as the knife rose and fell, the blade becoming slick with pumpkin juice as Rumpel worked hard to carve a circle around the stem. His veins were thick cords protruding from his wrist, his hand tightly clenched around the black handle of the knife.

Finally, the knife slipped out of the pumpkin and Rumpel set it aside long enough to tug on the pumpkin's stem. It lifted up and away, and the pumpkin opened, revealing its stringy, gooey guts. Belle had never smelled the inside of a pumpkin before, but she caught a strong whiff of it now.

Rumpel eyed Belle's bare hands on the table. He took a moment to snap on a pair of latex gloves over his own hands.

"You might want to consider putting on some gloves, Belle. This part, though fun, tends to get a little messy," he warned. In example, his hand entered the pumpkin and he wrested a handful of orange goo, which he plopped down on the newspaper. Right on top of Charlie Brown's comic strip. "If you don't want to touch it, feel free to use the ladle."

Belle observed the way he scooped out another handful of pumpkin guts. She glanced at the silver ladle and quickly disregarded it. Experiencing life to the fullest was her general motto, so she bucked up the courage to stick her bare hand in the pumpkin. She shrieked when her fingers first wrapped around a particularly moist clump.

"Ooh, it's slimy," she squealed, but went on digging nonetheless. Rumpel shook his head when a mound of orange mess was added to the growing pile on the newspaper.

"Don't say I didn't warn you about the gloves. And the spoon," he reminded her. There was to be no sympathy for her.

But Belle did not mind it; she was gleeful as a child experiencing their first pumpkin carving. Time and again she stuck her arm up to the elbow and took delight in seeing how much of the gooiness she could pry away from the pale yellow walls.

At one point, Belle was so enthusiastic about the activity, her arm orange and sticky, that she wrenched free a stubborn web of gunk too hard and too fast. It soared out of the pumpkin...and splattered across Rumpel's clean white dress shirt. Belle made an astonished _O _with her lips, every muscle in her body frozen.

"Oh, Rumpel, I'm so sorry-"

Her features were heartbreakingly apologetic, her legs rushing to carry her to the sink for a paper towel and warm water. It would be no use, he knew as he scraped the seeds away. The shirt would be hopelessly stained and ruined, unless he used magic to restore it.

"This is one of my favorite shirts," he said quietly while Belle insisted on dabbing at the stain. Her eyes glistened, the paper towel slowing in its movement once she understood the extent of the damage. He sighed. "That means punishment is in order."

"Rumpel, I truly am sorry I-gah!"

Belle yelped when he dared to plant a handful of pumpkin goo on the crown of her head. The yellow strings tangled in her chestnut hair and the juice dribbled along her temples. Rumpel grinned, appearing pleased with himself. Sometimes, his inner child needed releasing.

Belle wasn't angry by the counterattack. The game was on.

She quickly ducked around the table, using it as a barricade while she flung another pile of pumpkin onto Rumpel's chest. He tried dodging her attacks, but the burden of his bad leg slowed him down too much. He retaliated, the clump of pumpkin masking her cheeks and nose. Belle snatched up the silver ladle and used it to catapult twice the amount of orange mess at a faster rate.

"Wait a minute! You can't use that! It's cheating," he objected, a breath before a mound of pumpkin caught him on the thigh.

"It's not cheating if you didn't establish any rules in the first place," she countered. Another spoonful landed just below Rumpel's belt and she burst into laughter as he wiped it off.

"You get the spoon...I get the pumpkin," he challenged, digging his fingers into the arsenal of pumpkin guts that had not yet been uncovered. They had to clean it out anyway; they might as well be put to good use.

Rumpel successfully landed a ball of pumpkin sludge on Belle's hand, making her drop the ladle in surprise. The two of them spied the instrument on the ground and dove for it. Belle reached it first and wrapped her fingers around the handle.

Halfway down, Rumpel's foot slid on a streak of orange slime. His hands snaked around Belle's waist for balance, but it was too late. Together they tumbled and rolled over the less-than-pristine kitchen floor.

When they stopped, Belle lay flat on her back on the floor and Rumpel hovered above her body, his legs straddling her small waist and his hands pressed to the floor on either side of her head. Both were red-faced and breathing heavily from the wild exertion of their pumpkin fight.

Most people would look a mess with pieces of pumpkin clinging to their clothes and strings of slime threading through their hair. The only word Rumpel thought upon drinking in the sight of Belle beneath him was _beautiful. _He lowered his head and gently kissed the rose petals that were her lips. To his immense wonder and ecstasy, she returned his kiss passionately, her mouth blossoming and opening fully to his desire. He licked the taste of pumpkin from her sweet mouth with the tip of his tongue.

"Shall we finish what we started?" Belle softly inquired.

Panic and excitement burst through Rumpel's chest. Surely he interpreted her meaning wrong? Surely there was a trick of the light and her youthful blue eyes were not glazed with lust? Gods, she seemed to be batting her eyelashes more frequently than usual. What if...ignited by another kiss...they finished what they started and became one entity right on this pumpkin-stained floor?

"Finish carving the pumpkin, I mean."

Oh.

"Of course," he agreed, but neither of them moved to do that. His fingers wove into her hair, gently caressing it as he laid down at her side. Her touch danced across his skin, exploring. That curiosity of hers was impossible to quench.

He kissed her again.

...

Once they finished giving the pumpkin two triangles for eyes and a toothy grin, they placed a candle inside the hollowed-out pumpkin, lit it up, and stepped back to admire the result. Rumpel immediately thought the pumpkin looked _too _happy for a fellow that had the possibility of being crushed to pieces that night by rowdy teenagers. Behind his back, Rumpel flexed his fingers and commanded a charm to be placed around the pumpkin, one that would prevent the pumpkin from being the least bit damaged. He kept his protection a secret, for the last thing he wanted to do was explain to Belle the dreary fate of most pumpkins nowadays.

Rumpel flicked the switch on the wall, plunging the room in gloomy shadows save for the beacon of light sitting on the table. They must have taken longer to carve it than he realized since the blanket of night was beating against the kitchen windows.

While Belle studied her pumpkin with unadulterated joy, he studied Belle with all the love his heart could ever summon. He memorized every delicate detail of her golden face in the candlelight. He would do anything, even sign away his soul, to keep that happiness from fading by a single degree.

In the darkness, her warm hand curled around his and squeezed.

"Thank you," she sincerely commended. She was unable to take her eyes from the glowing pumpkin, as though she had been placed under a powerful trance. "It's beautiful."

He was all at once aware of so many things at the same time. There was the rhythm of his heartbeat, thrumming in his chest. Standing so close to Belle, he caught a tempting whiff of her hair-vanilla and roses-which then blended smoothly with the incense from the scented candle inside the pumpkin. He was aware of never wanting to let Belle's hand go, instead squeezing it in return.

"Yes," he said. "Beautiful, indeed."

...

After a much-needed hot shower, Belle discovered Rumpel pouring out gigantic bags of candy into a generously-sized bowl. He blindly tossed the bags aside once they were empty. The bowl was overflowing with full-sized Hershey's chocolate bars, Snickers, Crunch, Twix, Skittles-the last option being the one Belle sneakily coveted when his back was turned.

"Save some for the kiddies," Rumpel lightly chided, ripping open a bag containing full-sized Kit-Kats. He hadn't even turned around yet to catch her in the act. Belle guiltily popped one Skittle in her mouth.

Nothing ever escaped his notice. No wonder the people of this town claimed Rumpel had eyes in the back of his head. But then a detail rebounded inside her mind.

Kiddies? The trick-or-treaters! They were coming!

Belle quickly placed her witch hat atop her head and performed her last touch-ups in the mirror, all the while snacking on her Skittles. Oh, she was so excited! She didn't even question why people gave out candy to children at this time of night-their poor parents-she was simply anticipating the chance to join in on the holiday fun.

"Do you mind if I help you pass out the candy?" She had never done it before, but she certainly did not want to suck the fun away from Rumpel. However, still crouched, he finished emptying the last bag of candy and then lifted the bowl up to her.

"Have at it," he said carelessly. "Perhaps if the children see you opening the door instead of me, more will be eager to come. Otherwise, you and I will have to find room in our bellies for the remaining candy." Somehow, she doubted he would complain if his sweet tooth had a variety of choices in terms of Halloween candy. "That reminds me."

He snapped his fingers, having just recovered an elusive thought. Into the kitchen he strode and reappeared no more than two seconds later with a smaller bag of candy, this one striped in orange and white. His fingers pinched a tiny piece of candy, which slightly resembled the colors of the bag: a corn-shaped morsel striped in white, orange, and yellow in that order.

"It's past time you tasted your first piece of candy corn," he said, letting the candy hover in front of her mouth.

Belle was not a picky eater. She applied her courage to tasting new foods as she did most everything else, so she gladly clamped her red lips around Rumpel's digits, sucking the candy from between them. A deep pink flush entered his cheeks, spurred on by her unexpected compliance.

Belle flipped the candy corn around and around on her tongue. It was amazingly sugary and tasted faintly of honey. Ooh, it was good. So good, in fact, that she opened her mouth after swallowing the first piece, silently pleading Rumpel to pop another piece in.

"Good, isn't it?" Rumpel smiled knowingly and tossed a piece of candy corn in the air, expertly catching it in his mouth. Show-off.

"Mmm..." That was the only answer he earned from Belle, but it spoke volumes.

The doorbell rang when Belle was busy swallowing her candy corn and she was in danger of choking on it, thrilled as she was to greet their first customer. Rumpel calmed her with a sway of his hand.

"A few minor tips to this trick-or-treating business. One: never leave the bowl of candy outside with a sign to Please Take One. No one ever listens and even the bowl will be missing before an hour's gone by. Two: I know the children will be 'cute', but you should not give them more than one piece of candy. You'll run out fast that way and besides, by the end of the night they'll have more candy to eat than if they followed Hansel and Gretel to the evil witch's house. Three: do not be startled when you open the door and the children scream at you. They'll be screaming 'trick-or-treat'. That's not a choice you need to make-that's just what the children say when they request their candy."

Belle nodded fervently. Her mind was spinning fast. She felt she should be taking notes, but her hands were full with the heavy bowl of candy. The doorbell rang a second time and Rumpel assisted her with opening it.

"_Trick or treat,_" a chorus of young voices exploded. Belle gasped, beaming down at the glowing faces.

There was a little girl with a halo atop her head and a white dress that flowed to the tops of her sneakers. It was Jefferson's daughter, Grace. Another child, this one a young boy, stood beside her dressed as a devil with a pointy black beard painted on his chin and a cheap red plastic pitchfork swinging in his hand. A third was stuck in the back, draped from head to toe with a white sheet that had holes cut into it where the child's eyes should be. Jefferson observed the scene from a few feet away on the porch, never once taking his eyes off his daughter. His trademark hat sat atop his head, but little else was dedicated to Halloween.

"Nice hat," Jefferson complimented Belle, nodding to her new witch hat. Belle blushed, fingering the rim of her velvet hat, and Rumpel protectively stepped up beside Belle, blocking her from Jefferson's view.

Belle melted at the sight of the children.

"Oh! You are adorable!" She thrust the candy bowl forward. "Here-take as much as you like."

"Uh, Belle-" Rumpel cautioned, but it was far too late. Their eyeballs looked ready to pop out of their heads, their smiles stretched impossibly wide. Their hands wriggled over the mound of candy, scooping out generous bunches like the claws in prize machines.

Belle even made sure that Jefferson walked away with a Hershey bar and a pack of M&Ms. It was her form of thanks for the compliment to her hat.

"Thank you," the children sang and practically skipped down the path to the street, their pillowcases lumpy with their delicious reward. Belle closed the door, only to confront Rumpel's disapproval. She broke one of the rules already.

"Amateur," he teased. "You're much too soft around the kiddies." A clucking of his tongue swiftly followed. _Tsk, tsk, tsk. _The doorbell rang again-so soon!-and Belle pushed the bowl into Rumpel's demanding hands. Let him enlighten her on the proper technique. "Watch and learn, dearie."

Rumpel opened the door, balancing the candy bowl on his forearm in the process. On the porch stood three people: Emma, Bae, and Henry. Henry was dressed in a small, refined black suit with a red tie. A miniature cane was grasped in his hand. He even had the gold tooth.

"Trick or treat," he cried out happily. Rumpel blinked down at the child and then glanced at his own son for verification. Belle was lost in her amusement. Of all the costumes Henry could choose.

"It was the kid's idea," Bae said, holding his hands up in surrender.

"And the most expensive," Emma muttered under her breath. "The only person that it costs more to become is Batman."

Henry pouted for a moment, but his glee bounced back when Rumpel instructed the boy to open his candy bag. Rumpel must have been impressed with Henry's costume to some degree since he poured half the candy bowl into Henry's bag. Emma's eyebrows looked like they could soar off her forehead and Bae looked slightly jealous.

"Fear not, Bae. I'm sure Henry will find it in his heart to share," Rumpel assured his son. Bae did not appear too convinced. Maybe it was because Henry was toting that candy bag around like it was filled with priceless jewels instead of candy.

Emma and Bae raced to catch up with Henry as the kid hurried down the path in search of the next hot spot for trick-or-treating. Rumpel held the half-empty bowl of candy close to his chest as he closed the door, smiling softly from the warmth seeping into his bones.

The warmth dimmed a tiny ounce when he faced Belle's silent accusation. And he called _her _the soft one.

"What?" He shrugged innocently. "Henry's my grandson. And he pulls off the suit nicely."

...

Just one more piece...

Belle's hand wormed its way into the crumpled white and orange bag for one last piece of candy corn. Technically, she had been telling herself it would be the last piece for the past twenty minutes. Sometimes, it felt impossible to fit another piece into her belly, but she could not seem to stop reaching for it, anyway. She liked to credit herself with having excellent willpower, being a believer in mind over matter, but tonight her willpower flew out the window.

The world outside the walls of Rumpel's house had gone eerily quiet. The clock on the wall claimed it was getting late and the last trick-or-treaters had carried on their way a while ago. The candy bowl had been polished clean, literally since Archie's dog Pongo licked the bowl after the last piece had been squandered. Apparently, the 'Stiltskin residence was the hot spot of the night for trick-or-treaters.

Just one more piece...

Her hand fell short across Rumpel's stomach and her head burrowed into his neck. A groan issued from her throat.

"Ugh, my stomach is so full...I might burst," she said. She didn't want to complain by telling him that it was starting to hurt. Rumpel's arm readjusted around her waist, guiding her closer to his body. He snickered into her ear.

"I told you not to eat so much candy corn. You didn't listen." Belle regretted not heeding his warning now. The candy corn's incredible sweetness soon became too great to stomach. At the same time, the sight of that bag and what it held inside tempted her to devour more. "I'll lessen your stomachache, if you'll let me."

With her verbal permission, his fingers delved under her shirt to stroke her flat belly. In mere seconds, the discomfort brought on by eating too much candy corn had faded completely. That felt much better.

She gave him a kiss on the jaw to express her gratitude.

At last she could return to enjoying the movie with Rumpel. Or, at least she would attempt to enjoy it as much as she could. Everything else about Halloween was beautiful and magical, but she was starting to think scary movies weren't her cup of tea. For one thing, there was a total lack of logic unfolding on the screen.

"That wasn't very bright; running up the stairs instead of out the front door," she pointed out. The scream that erupted from the television sounded too forced to be realistic. "And why do so many girls feel the need to wear...nothing?"

Belle's cheek vibrated as Rumpel's body quivered with a short burst of laughter.

"That's what I ask myself every time I see the movie _Friday the 13th_ around this time of year," he replied, shaking his head cynically. Belle tipped her head back to give him a quizzical look.

"_Friday the 13th? _What does that movie have to do with Halloween?"

The lack of logic was appalling. Though, Belle had to admit she had the ending of this movie figured out, bland in creativity as it was. Clearly, the killer was the creepy boyfriend.

"Oh, believe me, the gore in that movie more than qualifies it for the Halloween season," Rumpel insisted. Belle let the matter go and snuggled comfortably against Rumpel, absorbing his body heat. In the end, she did not mind watching the overly violent horror movie on the flickering televison screen so long as it was Rumpel she watched it with.

Just one more piece of candy corn...

...

Rumpel was relieved when the movie's credits began to roll. Truthfully, scary movies were not his cup of tea no matter how many dark crimes he had committed in his lifetime. But Belle had asked him to teach her everything about Halloween, so he decided to share the tradition of horror movies with her.

He turned off the television, his head already aching from the incessantly loud rock music. He stretched his arms wide above his head, a yawn overtaking him. Then he realized how deep Belle's breathing had become. It tickled the skin of his neck, soft whooshes of warm breath from those parted red lips. He poked her shoulder, but there was no response.

She was fast asleep. Poor thing-the excitement of Halloween had worn her out. Even in sleep, there was the ghost of a smile.

Moving at a snail's pace, Rumpel eased Belle's body back on the couch. It was only for an instant, so that he may stand up and massage the pins and needles from his legs. Then he used his remaining strength to lift Belle into his arms and carried her upstairs to his bedroom, where he gently tucked her under the covers. He placed an extra quilt atop her body, to make sure she would never be cold during the night.

He remained a moment by her bedside to observe her in peaceful slumber. The memory of their day together made his pulse race rapidly, in a good way. He hadn't been this happy since...why, it had been too long.

With the subtlety of butterfly's wings to avoid stirring her from sleep, he bent his head and finally returned her kiss on the cheek.

"Happy Halloween, Belle."

...

_**I want to give special thanks to Emilie Brown for creating the awesome new cover for this collection of one-shots. I hope the readers like it just as much as I do. **_

_**As always, I have my reviewers to thank as well: Emilie Brown, Grace5231973, CharlotteAshmore, GlitterFrog, and NinaGold. **_


	5. Starting Over

_**A/N: **__**So, nearly everyone that writes for Rumbelle has written one of these before (or has read one), but I wanted to try my hand at it. To this day, I still wish Regina had not gotten in the way of Rumbelle in FT land. Now, I'm just hoping they have a good reunion after Neverland. But, enough chitter-chatter. Enjoy the one-shot, everyone. (-; **_

_**Starting Over**_

_I'm coming back for you, Rumpelstiltskin. _

Belle made that promise with her heart and she wasn't going to stop until it came true. She had handled the Yaoguai. She knew she possessed the courage to face Rumpelstiltskin again. It had been a mistake to walk away, she understood that now. The Dark Castle was where her heart truly lay, in the hands of the man who walked its halls.

It was a difficult journey. Belle had little gold in her pockets, not enough to purchase a horse. She saved the gold for food and water and made her shelter in the woods alongside the road. The road itself was a dangerous place day or night. She had learned that when she encountered Regina. Never again did she wish to cross paths with the Queen.

When at last she climbed the steep mountain on which the Dark Castle sat, she had certainly seen better days. She was exhausted to the point of shaking, patches of damp dirt clung to her palms from climbing, the leather on her knees was worn from one too many tumbles on the mountainside, and she hadn't had a decent meal in two days. But Belle didn't care. She would have carried on at a mindless crawl if that's what it took to reach her destination.

Her only worry was that Rumpelstiltskin might not want her back. What if her parting words had stung too deeply? What if he had already found another maid, one that would not fall in love with him or dare to call him a coward?

_You never know until you try, _Belle recited one of her mantras. She would face him, she would tell him how foolish she had been for leaving, and if he still rejected her then at least she would know where they stood. Then maybe she could move on.

If there was such a thing as moving on.

The sight of the Dark Castle's elegant doors gave her such sweet relief that she nearly collapsed right there on the path. Somehow, her strength was renewed and she ran the rest of the way, bursting inside the castle so powerfully that the flimsy locks exploded off the frame. He wasn't in the entrance hall. Oh, it was so dusty! She coughed.

If she knew him, he would be at his wheel, spinning to forget.

Was he spinning to forget her?

"Rumpelstiltskin," she called out, but her voice was hoarse and strained.

She paused at the bottom of the marble stairs to catch her breath, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. The castle's walls were eerily silent. If she listened closely enough, she could detect the drafts whispering along the stone. Was he away attending to one of his deals? The castle felt so empty without him.

In that case, she would simply have to wait for him.

Belle turned away from the stairs, only to find a surprise. Rumpelstiltskin was standing less than a foot behind her, head tilted and studying her in wide-eyed wonder. His hands were raised in the air, as if he meant to touch her. There was a questioning glimmer in his amber eyes. Affection for him swelled inside her chest and she longed to reach out and caress his cheek, to prove to him that she was here to stay.

"Rumpelstiltskin," she happily greeted. She lifted her foot to take a step forward and swiftly he drew one step back. Belle paused. Was it true then? Did he not want her? "I know this must come as a surprise. I came back to find you. I want to stay with you...if you'll let me."

"No," he instantly whispered and her heart split apart like a crushed watermelon. That was it-his answer in a single syllable. She continued to hold her head high, though the warmth of tears pricked her eyelids. She should have known it was too much to hope for a second chance.

"Oh. My mistake. I'll...go then," she murmured against the thick lump forming in the hollow of her throat. She kept her gaze glued on the door as she brushed past his shoulder. From the corner of her eye, she saw him wheel around on his heel to watch her departure.

_ Goodbye, Rumpelstiltskin, _she bid him adieu in her mind, only because her tongue was the equivalent of cotton in her mouth.

"No...because you're not really here," he continued dreamily. He sounded so dejected, so uncertain. "You can't be. Belle left my castle and she's never coming back. No one ever comes back for me. You're not her. For one thing, I've never seen Belle wear leather. She's a princess, not a rogue."

"True," Belle replied, pivoting around to meet his guarded eyes. "But wouldn't the fact that you've never seen me in leather imply that I was really here? If this was a figment of your imagination, it would be based off experiences and you would imagine me in my blue dress or my golden one. Unless you have some secret fantasies you wish to share?"

He did not argue with her logic. Belle teasingly smoothed her palms over her vest and across her leather-clad thighs. His snake-like eyes followed her every move, as though in a trance. She could tell he admired her new look.

"You think I'm an illusion?" He didn't offer an answer, but the suspicion was written on his gold-tinted face. "I went on an adventure. I pursued the Yaoguai. It wouldn't be very smart to chase monsters in a dress," she quipped.

The faintest smile graced his lips.

"A believable tale," he remarked, waving his hand dismissively. "But I'm not ready to risk my heart for tricks and shadows, dearie," he said and turned away. He was prepared to slink back into the gloom of his castle, at the mercy of his memories. It sent a painful shudder through her body. This man was so lonely, so broken, he truly believed she was a product of his eternal guilt.

Well, she wasn't giving up yet.

Belle boldly strode across the floor to catch ahold of his arm. It shocked him into paralysis.

"I _am _here," she insisted and urged him to turn around. When he did, she placed her hands on either side of his face, forcing him to stare into her blue eyes. "Look at me, Rumpel. Really look. I journeyed all the way here to try to make amends with you. I'm sorry I ever left."

She meant that with all her heart. For a long moment, he observed the patches of dirt on her pants and ivory skin. He fingered the wisps of chestnut hair that had fallen loose from her ribbon. He took a delicate hand from his cheek only to realize how scraped it was. She winced when his thumb brushed across a sore spot on her palm. Then he was looking into her blue eyes once more, but this time without doubt.

For the first time since she charged through those doors, he truly saw her.

"Belle?" It was music to her ears, the love that inevitably laced through her name. He clasped her hand tenderly, his way of telling her never to let go. It would take a carriage and a half to drive her away from him at that instant. "You came back? But...why would you do that again?"

She smiled and willingly walked into his arms.

"Because I've finally found something worth fighting for," she said. He brought her palm to his lips and kissed the back. A feeling of relief swept over her and when her hand bloomed she found it to be healed of scars. "Can I stay?"

His face crumbled.

"Sweetheart...of course," he said and pulled her tighter into his embrace. Their bodies fit together seamlessly and she rested her head on his shoulder, deeply inhaling his familiar scent. He rubbed her back soothingly and she knew he was secretly replenishing her strength and good health. The silly man. All she ever needed to feel whole was him.

"I'm so sorry," she moaned into his neck. His fingers stopped stroking her spine. "For all the nasty things I said to you-" He gently pried her away from his body. He cupped her chin.

"No, you were right," he objected. "Everything you said was right, Belle. It took me a while to admit it. Belle, I am a coward. I have been all my life and I most likely will be for the rest of it. I should be apologizing to you. I never thought you'd come back. The minute you left, I knew it was a mistake."

"Then why didn't you come for me?" He hung his head. As mysterious as he could be, Belle found she had a knack for reading him like any book in the library. "You were afraid."

"Yes. I was afraid you would never come back even if you were given the choice," he admitted. Belle felt an overwhelming wave of sympathy for him. All his life, he earned nothing but rejection. It was no wonder he assumed she would be the same. Belle entwined her fingers through his.

"I'm here now and I never want to leave again. How about we...start over?" His eyebrows rose at the suggestion. They could wipe the slate clean, start fresh. They could forget all the hurt and try to find happiness together.

"Should we reintroduce ourselves, too?" He taunted and she laughed. Belle wiggled away from his arms and decided to make a good example by giving a respectful curtsy. It was awkward in leather pants, but she managed it.

"Belle," she said. She gestured a hand to signal his turn. Her favorite sly smile crept across his lips as he offered her a sweeping bow. Once more, he captured her hand and kissed it longer than would have been appropriate in a royal kingdom.

"Rumpelstiltskin, at your service," he drawled. She had no doubt he meant that part with his entire soul on the line. She dipped her head approvingly.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Rumpelstiltskin," she replied sincerely. He stared at the floor almost sheepishly. If he could blush past the gold skin, she had a feeling he would right then.

"You would be the first to say so, dearie."

Belle tipped her head reprovingly. If she was going to stay, there was one thing they should work on: his low self-esteem. Never had she seen a more modest man that willingly besmirched his own name. The people of this land had no idea what emotional torture he put himself through, never mind the people that actually tried to put a stake through his heart.

"You are a better man than you believe," she argued. He shrugged, unconvinced.

"No one has ever said that, either. Shall I...show you to your room?"

He scanned her messy wardrobe and snapped his fingers. She expected him to clothe her in her maid's dress, but instead she found a more elegant blue dress hanging on her body. It was meant for a proper lady, not a maid.

"Only the best for the lady of the Dark Castle," he said. Belle marveled over the implication of that phrase. Lady of the Dark Castle. She motioned for him to lead the way, gladly following behind. She would follow him to the ends of the world if he asked.

This time, he did not confine her to the cold, dank dungeons below their feet. She was his beloved, not his servant. It pained him to think he ever regarded her so lowly. This time, he led her up the winding marble stairs to the second floor, up to her own grand bedroom.

No more regrets. He vowed to do it right this time around.

...

_**I might not get a chance to update again this week, so I want to wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving just in case. I hope everyone has a nice, safe holiday. Secondly, I want to thank all those that have reviewed lately because every word encourages me to keep writing. Thanks go to CharlotteAshmore, NinaGold, and Emilie Brown (special thanks again for the story cover). **_

_**For the record, can you guys see the new story cover? I've been having issues with this site lately and that's one of them. **_


	6. A Token of Love

**A/N: ****First off, I hope everyone had a wonderful and very happy Thanksgiving. Happy holidays to everyone who is reading this. Secondly, I just want to note that this one-shot was inspired by a drawing of Belle I found while sifting through pictures of Rumbelle on Google. It was a drawing of Belle in her hospital bed after Outsider and a rose was magically placed on her bedside table. I found it very sweet and I wanted to write something around it, so here it is. It may be a bit sadder than anything else I have written so far, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. (-; **

**A Token of Love**

Rumpel hated hospitals. Too many insufficient people posing as medical staff due to the curse, always inconsiderately running about and nearly knocking him off his feet. Didn't anyone have respect for cripples these days? He suspected their apologies, hastily thrown over their white lab coat draped shoulders, were forced. The antiseptic stench clogged his nostrils and barely covered up the lingering odor of sickness and death. The machines never stopped beeping, the pens never stopped scratching, Whale never stopped flirting.

This was no place for a royal princess, much less his beloved.

He made sure to visit her when she was asleep. He had called ahead and badgered Nurse Ratched to be certain of it. After the last time, when Belle hurled their precious chipped cup into the wall and shattered it into countless glass shards, he could not find the courage to face her again. He imagined it would break his heart just like their chipped cup if he set eyes upon his beauty and found no love in her blue eyes. This was easiest for both of them.

He was leaving for Manhattan to find Bae. The car was idling outside with Emma in the front seat, most likely kicking her muddy boots up on his dashboard, and Henry doing who knew what in the backseat. Probably fogging up his windows with his breath and drawing stick figures, leaving smudges and fingerprints all over the glass.

All that was left was to say goodbye to Belle one last time. Maybe when he returned he would devote all his energy to saving her. Not today.

Hesitantly, Rumpel crossed the threshold into the dim interior of Belle's hospital room. The steady rhythm of beeping unnerved him. Belle's head was turned away from him, the rich chestnut curls he adored spilling like a halo on the pillow. Trapped in that sterile white hospital bed, she looked so small and frail. As delicate as the chipped cup she had broken. Even in sleep, the agony from her gunshot wound rippled over her pale face. He waved his hand over her head and that discomfort quickly vanished. His hand dropped to her hair and he could not resist weaving his fingers through it. The pain in his heart was greater than he could ever put into words.

"I wish you could come with me on this adventure, Belle. I need you now more than I ever have before. I hate leaving you like this," he whispered so as not to stir her.

He should never have given that loathsome pirate a second chance. He should have killed him then and there, skinned him alive with his own hook. He shouldn't have allowed Belle to get so close to the border, tempting fate. He should have...He should have...

There was nothing to be done, except blame himself. Just another layer of guilt upon the shoulders that already staggered under the weight of centuries of burdens. Having practiced with magic for those three centuries, he knew it was pointless to wish to change the past. It could never be done; it was against the laws of magic. Now Bae required his full attention. His boy was the reason the curse was created and he intended to correct his mistake of long ago, even if it meant letting Belle live as a blank slate for a little while longer. He was grateful she was even alive.

He hoped King Maurice was happy. Her own father tried throwing her over the border to make her forget her forbidden true love. It was a little late in forthcoming, but he finally got his wish. Belle did not remember him or the love she cherished for him. She even looked at him like the monster everyone believed him to be. It crushed his heart with the heaviest of hammers.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured and bent his head to place a tender kiss on her forehead one last time. Who knew when he would get the chance to display any affection for her again? But he wanted her to know so very much.

With a swish of his hand, a beautiful red rose materialized on the metal stand next to her bed, atop her plastic food tray. A token of the love he would always feel for her, even if this shell of Belle would never be able to appreciate it. It went unspoken between them that, whenever he handed her a red rose just as he had in his Dark Castle, it was his own way of saying _I love you. _

He was long gone by the time she awoke from her drug-induced sleep to find the rose. For the first time since being admitted to the hospital, Belle smiled as she gently picked up the rose by its green stem, inhaled its sweet fragrance, and cradled it close to her chest, almost directly over her beating heart.

...

**Shout-out time! I appreciate hearing what my readers thought of the one-shots and I adore every word in those reviews. They definitely help to keep me motivated in writing. **

**Grace5231973: The story cover that I have for this story features Rumpel and Belle formally dressed (like for a wedding celebration) and dancing together with the title of the story underneath. Some reviewers told me they can see it, but I wanted to make sure since I myself cannot see it under Manage Stories. If you can see it, then I hope you like it. Thank you for the review (as always) and I'm glad you liked reading the one-shot. I always wondered what would have happened if Belle returned to the Dark Castle as well. Thanks to Regina, we'll never know. **

**Huntress4455: I'm so glad you were able to take some time and read these one-shots. I hope you enjoyed them, too. I always look forward to your reviews-they make me smile so much! Don't worry-I have plenty of ideas planned for Rumbelle yet and happy holidays to you, dearie! **

**NinaGold: Thank you for reading! I always pictured Rumpel as having very low self-esteem (which is partly why Belle is good for him) and so him saying that no one would ever come back for him is both sad and most likely true in his eyes. If only this really happened in the show; I think Rumbellers would have something happy to cherish. But alas, it can only happen in fanfic. Thanks for the review-I greatly appreciate it. **

**Charlotte Ashmore: It's good that you can see the cover because I can't see it under Manage Stories. The person who made it for me (Emilie Brown) did a very good job with it, I think. I'm glad to hear that my writing has made someone happy! That's all I need to hear to keep writing! (-; I promise not to disappoint. **

**Emilie Brown: Thank you so much for the reviews. I figured having Rumpel think Belle was a figment of his imagination would be a nice touch since he wouldn't expect Belle to return a second time (in leather pants, no less). A few people reassured me that they can see the story cover. This site has had a lot of problems lately, anyway. *sigh***


	7. Something There

_**A/N: Ever since first becoming a Rumbeller, I always wanted to write this scene. Especially since Beauty and the Beast is one of my favorite Disney movies. This one would have been up earlier...if I hadn't accidentally deleted half of the one-shot and had to write it over again. /= But here it is, and I hope everyone likes my version of it. **_

_**Something There**_

Belle had spent a little over a month at the Dark Castle.

Some days it seemed time was ripped from under her feet like a carpet while other days lasted an eternity. Her hands were hardening and becoming stronger due to the work she handled day in and out, but she never once complained. She wore the calluses with pride. After all, her purpose for being there was to save her kingdom, to be the hero she always dreamed of being.

As for her master, he had taken her by surprise. He was an enigma, a mystery she had not fully uncovered. Even so, he wasn't nearly as bad as she first assumed. The more time she spent in his castle, the more she wondered if the side of him she witnessed the night they crossed paths was nothing but a ruse, a mask he wore to hide his true face.

Seldom did he make conversation with her, always busying himself in some part of his castle, but he was not cruel. People might naturally jump to the conclusion that being a prisoner in his castle meant he would squander her virtue, deflower and defile her in the worst of ways. But he showed no interest in that sort of evil whatsoever. In fact, it seemed he was afraid to linger too long in the same room with her.

Maybe the rumors about Rumpelstiltskin were just that-rumors. Maybe he was lonely here in his castle and so he sought out a companion. Belle never found the opportune moment to ask.

Winter still cloaked the Dark Castle inside and out, the mountain blanketed with white powder that swirled in the wind. Belle had been granted a small sense of freedom-she was free to wander the grounds of the castle, but never allowed to pass the wrought iron gates. She liked to think that was a good sign, a sign of progress. That must mean he was beginning to trust her not to run away.

Not that she ever would. She made that clear on several accounts, but she didn't think he believed it.

Belle had gotten her chores done early and decided to celebrate her newfound freedom by taking a walk among the castle's gardens. She had the excitement of a child bouncing down the marble steps and gliding into the foyer. She donned her emerald cloak for the occasion, the pads of her fingers tracing the golden flowers woven within it.

The grounds of the Dark Castle were breathtaking in the winter. It was so still, so silent that it held an enchanting melody all its own when the wind whispered over the incline of the mountain. There was white everywhere she turned, soft and layered, and so startlingly bright that Belle had to shield her eyes until they adjusted properly.

A faint path circled the castle and she took her time in following it, the snow licking her heels and crusting the soles with glittering diamonds. It was a shame there were no flowers, not because the frost had prevented their growth, but because it was Rumpelstiltskin's belief that nature did not mingle with dark beings. According to him, no flower ever grew underneath his touch, even with magic. Belle suspected his heart had never been in it. The path would be lovely in the spring if there were flowers to line it up and down.

Roses would be nice.

Belle came to an open courtyard toward the back of the castle. There was a stone bench in the alcove between the castle's towers, the seat already occupied by a fine layer of white dust. A tall tree sprouted from the earth, its trunk crooked, with branches bare and clipped so as not to stretch over the castle's barrier.

The man truly had thought of everything concerning her imprisonment. Little did he realize Belle had no desire to scale the tree, even without the excuse of winter making the task difficult. It would be a nice spot to read, though, when the weather changed.

A flock of white doves caught her eye. Their pale feathers made them almost invisible against the wintry backdrop. They stalked through the snow, pecking the frozen earth every once in a while and ignoring the fact that the season was not welcoming for feathered creatures.

Belle frowned. The poor things must be hungry. What kind of person would she be if she carried on her way without sparing them a single crumb? They weren't likely to find decent food on this mountain.

Underneath the hood of her cloak, Belle's face lit up with the intensity of the summer sun. She retraced her steps carefully in hopes of not scaring away the birds before she accomplished her goal. Once she rounded the corner of the castle, she hurried back to the entrance with a plan in mind and a warm feeling spreading through her heart, chasing away the deathly chill.

She raced into the castle and immediately dashed across the floor toward the kitchen. The thrill seeped into her bones and it was too powerful to be contained. She didn't care to mask the sound of her steps. In the kitchen, which could easily fit two bedrooms for two greedy kings, she searched around for something the birds might like. She flung open drawers and cabinets to find an assortment of foods stacked inside, always replenished overnight by magic. There was a sack of seeds in one of the cupboards-she swung that down from its shelf. There was a whole loaf of fresh bread near the fireplace-she took that, too.

When she spun around to leave with her gifts tucked under her arms, she found Rumpelstiltskin striding into the kitchen. It occurred to her that he might not like the idea of her giving away his food to stray birds outside, but she was determined not to be swayed.

"Are you hosting a royal ball in here, dearie?" Belle tilted her head. She noted his sarcasm.

"Of course not, " she responded politely. He snorted.

"Funny. It sounded like it from my wheel," he snapped. Belle bowed her head in apology. Rumpel never liked being disturbed when he was spinning. It always put him in a bad mood. The irritability tranformed into suspicion when he spotted the sack of seeds and loaf of bread in her hands. "What _are _you doing?"

"Feeding the birds," she said resolutely. Not many things in the world surprised Rumpelstiltskin due to his three centuries of living, but that most certainly did.

"Feeding the...what?"

But she was already walking past him and heading for the entrance doors. She didn't hear his boots following in pursuit. Returning to the courtyard, she dropped the sack of seeds and loaf of bread at her feet. The doves were still there, bobbing their heads to a rhythm of their own making.

Taking a handful of seeds, she scattered them on the ground. The doves regarded the seeds and turned their heads as if daring a member of their group to try one. One took a seed in its beak and the others soon pecked the ground in the same manner. When those seeds were gone, Belle spread another handful.

A shadow slinked across the snow, but she did not turn to address its owner. There was only one person the shadow could belong to, anyway.

"The first thing you choose to do with your freedom...is feed a bunch of rats with wings? Are you so lonely here that you invite their company?" Belle was not offended by his inquiries. It was clear he was confused about her good intentions.

"They are _not _rats with wings. They are doves. I can't let them starve in the cold," she argued vehemently.

More seeds rained over the snow. Two birds were fighting over the same one. She poured more seeds into her palm, but Rumpel's golden hand closed over it. The physical contact mesmerized Belle. It was the first time he ever touched her without some initial contact on her part.

"It's nature's way, dearie. No matter how well-meaning the gesture, it's not proper to interfere. I'd say let it run its course," he advised softly. He encouraged her fingers to curl into her palm, her hand becoming a fist. He didn't let go. "Besides, if you keep feeding them, they'll never leave."

"What's wrong with that? What if you needed a dove to send a letter? What if there were no doves because you neglected to spare them food?" Rumpel's face grew long and, just for an instant, she peered into his soul. Her theory about his loneliness strengthened. There was such despair in his eyes, Belle could barely glance into those amber orbs.

"Trust me, Belle, I have no one worth sending letters to. I have no one who'd be happy to receive them," he said quietly, almost imperceptibly. His hand tightened over her hand, his mind fading into the distance where she could not follow. She gasped. A look of shame crossed his face and he released her, lowering his eyes to the snow.

She rubbed her hand, but hardly felt anything beyond the cold. It was her heart that ached for him. Did he truly have no one in this world? No one to long for him or miss his presence? He wasn't the monster he convinced the world he was.

"Come here," she said, beckoning him closer. His head shot up, eyebrows cocked and lips slightly parted in awe. He looked almost childish due to his amazement.

"You're giving the master of this castle an order?" If it was meant to be harsh, a way of putting her in her place, then it failed miserably. There was a teasing note accompanying his seductive accent. She smiled proudly.

"Yes, I am. Come. Here," she demanded more sternly, pointing to the spot directly in front of her. Rumpel hung back for a moment, his fingers wriggling in the air while he debated what to do. His boots plowed through the snow as he went to stand at her side. "Now, hold out your hand."

"Why?" Rumpel tucked his arms out of reach, as though afraid she might cut them off completely. She lightly touched his shoulder, which served to loosen him up a bit.

"Exercising a little trust won't kill you," she told him, peering up at him past his curtain of wavy hair. He scrunched his nose.

"You don't know that for sure," he begged to differ.

She gave him a serious look and he finally folded. He hesitantly held out his hand, palm-up. Belle's hand blossomed, revealing the mound of seeds. She poured the seeds into his hand, his fingers molding into a cup, and instructed him to crouch low to the ground. Hopefully, it wasn't too much of a strain for him in those skin-tight leather pants.

He began to get the idea of what she wanted him to do. His muscles tensed, his body freezing up more solidly than the stone that sheltered his head every night.

"They won't come to me," he warned, trying to take back his hand. Belle gently laid her fingers on his inner wrist and directed his hand toward the birds. His breathing hitched until he sounded like a woman going into labor.

"They will come to you. Be still, be silent, and you'll see. It's all a matter of trust," she said in hushed tones. He shook his head negatively, even as one of the birds turned its head in his direction.

"No, they know what I am." Belle boldly met his eyes. Her thumb traced over the surprisingly warm skin of his wrist.

"So do I," she pointed out. No person had ever been allowed to glimpse inside Rumpelstiltskin's world before. She found it wasn't so hard to adapt. "I'm not running, am I?"

"Well, you're..." He trailed off. Belle arched her eyebrows. What word would he select? Odd? Strange? "Different." Belle took it as a compliment. She thought she may have even blushed under the hood of her cloak. "I'm telling you, Belle. This is a waste of time. These creatures will not come to me for nourishment."

He tried to scuffle backwards in the snow, but Belle's arm wrapped around his waist to hold him steady. Paralyzed by her tender touch, he rocked on his heels, his hands hovering in the air and presenting the seeds in offering.

"They _will_. Have faith," she pleaded. If anything, he needed to be taught that he was not the monster whose mask he wore. He needed to learn that he was not as ugly, as hopeless, or as dangerous as he seemed to believe.

One bird was daring enough to hop a step toward Rumpelstiltskin, its wings rustling. When it spotted the seeds, it hesitated only a moment before poking its head into Rumpel's hands. He was a statue, his hands stitched together in a golden cup. Belle let him be, rising to her feet and smiling at the sight that unfolded. A second bird approached to join the first, then a third followed suit. Their sleek beaks wrestled for the seeds.

When the birds had consumed the seeds, Belle sprinkled more into his hands. The birds were increasingly trusting of Rumpelstiltskin, no longer hesitating to grab their reward. They longed for nourishment and Rumpel stayed still the entire time so as not to scare them off. From the perplexed expression on his face, Belle supposed _he _might be the one afraid of the _birds_.

One bird plucked up the courage to hop right into the cradle of Rumpel's hands. It startled him enough to make him plop on his butt in the snow. The bird didn't care-it went right on pecking the seeds.

Other birds floated down from the trees surrounding the walls of the castle. One of them, with feathers red as blood, landed on Rumpel's shoulder, chirping loudly and vastly enough to make Belle think it was telling him a wild tale. A white dove perched on his other shoulder and it, too, began to chirp, vying for his attention. A blue bird proved to be the bravest of all, nestling among the strands of Rumpel's wavy hair atop his head.

It was a marvelous sight to behold. Belle couldn't help but laugh. She looked on from afar, unwilling to break the spell of the birds.

"What am I? A tree?" Rumpel shivered violently, shaking off the birds. They took flight, their wings fluttering in the wind, but they settled back on Rumpel's body once he stopped moving again. Eventually he got tired of being the birds' resting post. He jumped to his feet, rubbing his palms together to brush away the remaining specks of seeds.

Something wet and frozen smashed into the back of his head, sliding down his neck. He reached up to remove it and realized he'd been hit with snow. He turned to see Belle smiling innocently. Too innocently.

"Ah, so that is the game you wish to play? You'll regret it." He bent to scoop up a handful of snow, packing it together into a perfect sphere. He was the master of the castle; he couldn't allow his maid to go unpunished for such rash behavior, could he? Belle showed no fear. He relished her squeal of excitement when the snowball impacted her shoulder. That one was a generous throw.

She hurried to arm herself with more snow, but Rumpel was faster. He formed another ball and tossed it, hitting her luscious behind. Belle launched her own ball of snow and it hit him square in the face, making him drop his latest round of ammunition.

Belle covered her mouth in surprise and slight apology as Rumpel wiped the melting frost off his nose and chin. She'd been aiming for his chest, but her throw had been a little too high and a little too hard.

"Rumpel, I am so sorry. I didn't mean-"

She took a step forward, blinked, and he was gone. Vanished into thin air via magic. Her heart grew heavy with guilt. They had been having such a good time together. Had she ruined it? Forced him to retreat into the gloom of his library to spin away the anger?

She sighed morosely and turned to collect the food-

-and walked straight into his trap. Snow covered her swanlike throat and chest. Some of it delved underneath her cloak and tunneled between her breasts. He giggled maniacally, clutching his sides.

"That is cheating," she exclaimed. She pointed her finger in accusation, but he ignored it, instead swiftly packing another snowball. She ducked behind the tree for cover. The frosted leaves trembled and rained crystal snowflakes over her head.

Her cheeks were flushed, her heart was pounding, there was snow melting in her hair, and she was starting to come down with a terrible case of the chills...but she would not rather be anywhere else. She hadn't laughed like that in a long time and never had she witnessed Rumpel smile so readily in her presence.

When the snowfight was officially over, with Rumpel declared the winner, he magically poofed the loaf of bread and seeds into the castle. As he walked with her along the path back to the castle's doors, he offered to whip up two cups of tea and asked if she would care to share his company in front of the fire that evening. She told him she would like that very much.

There was definitely something there that hadn't been before.

...

Ever since becoming the Dark One, Rumpel did not need sleep as a normal human being would. Nor did he dream too often. But when he dreamt that night, he only dreamt of white snow and red roses.


	8. Gift From The Heart

_**A/N: I already did a Halloween Rumbelle one-shot, so I decided to continue the holiday theme by doing a Christmas one-shot. That special time of year is coming up fast. This one was a lot of fun to write for many reasons. Just a bit of fun from my strange brain. Thank you for the reviews and I hope you enjoy this next one. **_

_**Gift from the Heart**_

Belle was on a mission. It was vital that she did not fail it. It was nearly Christmastime in Storybrooke and, according to this world's traditions, it was necessary that she give a gift to Rumpel to show how much she cared for him.

Her heart swelled with the thought of granting him a special gift of her own choosing, but there was only one issue at hand. She had no idea what to get him for Christmas!

For the better half of the morning, Belle wandered from shop to shop, considering several small items, but never able to decide which one was best. What if the gift was too small? Was there a such thing as a gift being too big? The first options she imagined for Rumpel were new suits, a new cane, maybe new cologne...but quickly she dismissed each one. She wanted to give him something unique, something _special. _

It had been almost thirty years since she last been with him, though. It pained her to admit that she did not know Rumpel as well as she once did. They were being given a second chance, and they weren't about to waste it. Even though both desired to explore the relationship, they agreed to take it slow. This world called it dating; Rumpel still called it courting.

An idea hit Belle while she was passing Granny's Diner. She hadn't been with Rumpel during the curse, all thanks to Regina, but the people of Storybrooke had known him for those twenty-eight years. Impulsively, she decided to ask them for gift-giving advice. She strode into the diner with her chin held high.

Belle originally thought that being the Dark One's true love would make people avoid her, but a number of heads nodded her way and smiles shined for her as the bell chimed to signal her presence. All of the tables were full, the air punctuated with chatter and scraping of utensils on plates. Granny's Diner was the place where everyone in Storybrooke gathered to take a load off. Already, she could pick out Red, Archie, Grumpy and the dwarves, the Charmings...

Belle chose to approach Granny and Red first.

Behind her spectacles, Granny's steely eyes brightened and she gave Belle one of her rare smiles. Red paused in taking a customer's order to circle around the counter and embrace her. The intensity of Red's hug was warm enough to chase the cold from Belle's bones.

"So, what it'll be today? Iced tea, of course. Pancakes with extra butter and syrup?" Granny planted her hand on her broad hip and stared at Belle expectantly. Belle smiled politely.

"Actually, what I need is advice," she admitted. Red hooked her thumb over her shoulder and mouthed Archie's name. The so-called cricket was too busy trying to reason with Whale about dating nuns to notice. "I'm shopping for Rumpelstiltskin's Christmas gift, but I haven't the slightest idea what to get him. What do you think I should do?"

"I'll tell you what I'm giving him for Christmas," Granny announced tersely. "A one-time hamburger with pickles free of charge. Merry Christmas. You can do the town a favor, though, and give him a proper spanking. Knock him down a few pegs."

Heat rushed to Belle's cheeks and Red gaped openly at Granny, horrified.

"Granny!" The wolf-girl scolded through her gritted teeth, but Granny showed no remorse. Red turned to Belle, sympathy covering her face, and shrugged apologetically. "Would this be an awkward moment to suggest giving Rumpelstiltskin a Christmas he'll never forget? Starting with a kiss under the mistletoe?"

Belle's blush would not fade. She fidgeted uncomfortably. She crossed their suggestions off the list. There was _no way _she and Rumpel were near a stable enough relationship for that sort of move.

"What do you think, Archie?" Belle craned her head to peer over Red's shoulder. The therapist lifted his head and met her eyes. "What should I give Rumpelstiltskin for Christmas?"

Archie mulled it over for a moment. Whale flashed a white grin at her, making Belle feel even more uncomfortable than before. She never particularly liked the doctor.

"Have you ever considered tranquilizers? Might take the edge off," the doctor said. Belle was certain of one thing: she wasn't chasing Rumpel around the house with a needle and sedating him like a horse. "What do _you _say about nuns being datable? Yay or nay?"

"As I explained to you, Dr. Whale, it is my professional opinion that you'll need to give the nuns some time to adjust to their true memories again before you pursue them romantically," Archie argued. Whale scowled.

"Professional opinion? Your degree isn't real!" Archie's lips twisted sourly.

"Neither is yours!" Whale's head snapped back as if Archie had slapped him physically. That was as close as anyone got to calling Whale a fraud. His title as doctor was probably one of his cards he played on women.

"The dwarf is dating a nun! Why can't I?" Archie took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. He replaced them on his nose and spun on his stool to face Belle, effectively giving Whale his back.

"You could always give him a puppy for Christmas. Dogs are said to be man's best friend, after all." A warm feeling spread through Belle when she pictured a small puppy kissing Rumpel's face. Maybe. Companionship was something he longed for, but from an animal? Belle had her doubts.

"Thank you for your help," she told everyone. She trained on the dwarves next. They were occupying seven stools further along the bar. When Belle inquired for their help, most of the dwarves offered an answer.

"A CD of Christmas classics," Happy said. "Christmas music makes everyone feel good around this time of year. Who doesn't love _Oh, Holy Night_?"

"Some...ah-choo! Nyquil and hot chocolate," Sneezy suggested. It was slightly muffled since he had a bunch of tissues pressed to his red nose. "There's nothing worse than a winter cold." He gazed at the tissues in his hand in dismay. Belle kindly handed him a fresh tissue.

"A nice, fuzzy...sweater," Sleepy said in the midst of a great yawn. "Perfect for cuddling in and dozing off while it snows outside." Belle shook her head. Rumpel wouldn't be caught dead in something so casual. He valued his suits too much.

Dopey didn't say anything. He pointed to his glass of egg nog, then the bottles of alcohol behind the bar. He gave Belle a thumbs up and sipped his egg nog. Belle had to wonder if Dopey's drink was spiked.

"I'd give you one of our extra pick-axes," Grumpy said, "but then Rumpelstiltskin might assume I was calling him a dwarf. Sorry, sister. I sort of like keeping my body parts in the right places."

Belle sighed. So far, she had very few ideas to go on. She spotted the Charmings' table and made a beeline for it. Maybe the Sheriff and her family could help.

"A new suit and tie?" Snow offered. There was a Christmas tie in Sneezy's covenience store, but Belle wasn't sure Rumpel would want to wear it. To please her, he would, but not for himself.

"A new cane? He's been toting that one around and beating...things...with it for twenty-eight years," Charming pointed out, scratching his head. That wouldn't do. The cane Rumpel used was his preferred one. He even had a nickname for it and used it when he didn't think Belle was listening. Marigold.

"How the hell should I know?" Emma barked. She had very little patience for Rumpelstiltskin, even if it was Christmas. It was too bad, because Belle got the impression he really liked Emma. "An appointment with Archie, maybe?" Snow, Charming, and Belle exchanged wary looks. Emma bristled defensively. "What? That man seriously needs to let out his emotions and his inner child or whatever Archie calls it and he needs to cry into a wad of Kleenex. Maybe then he'll stop scaring people."

Henry poked his head up from the pages of his leather-bound storybook. Belle made a note to put aside a copy of Grimm Fairy Tales for the boy for Christmas.

"How about a basket full of Apollo bars? Everyone loves chocolate around the holidays. Except for the Queen, that is," Henry said cheerfully.

Belle thanked them and saw no one else in the diner that could offer her advice. She made her way out the door and strolled along the sidewalk. Only Archie's puppy idea and Henry's basket of chocolate seemed pleasing enough. The chocolate would be nice, but she didn't know if Rumpel knew the first thing about taking care of a puppy. What if he was a cat person?

What could she do?

"Why so glum?"

A charming voice snagged her attention. Coming towards her was Jefferson and his daughter, Grace. Belle only met Jefferson once when he helped her escape the hospital, but it was nice to see him out and about with his daughter. The love in his eyes whenever he looked upon Grace was extraordinary.

"I'm just having trouble finding the perfect gift for Rumpelstiltskin," she explained tiredly.

A flash of fear flickered through Grace's eyes. Most children feared Rumpel and made him out to be a boogeyman on the playground. They didn't know him like Belle did; they didn't realize he would never harm an innocent child, no matter what tall tales spread through town. The one about eating children was absolutely ridiculous.

"And you decided to ask _them?_" He jerked his chin to the diner's entrance. Belle blushed. "They wouldn't know the real Rumpel if he hit them over the head with his cane. Luckily, I do. If I learned anything about that old imp while working for him all those years ago, it's that he doesn't care for material things. Trust me; I've taken enough of his spun gold to prove it. What you should do is give him something from the heart." Jefferson thought for a minute, then snapped his fingers. "I might have just the thing. All it will take is a little magic. Thanks to your boyfriend, that'll be easy."

With a half-bow, Jefferson led her down the street to where his car was parked. Belle was hesitant about magic, but she would love nothing more than to give Rumpel a gift of the heart.

As they walked, Belle felt a tug on her sleeve. She glanced down to meet Grace's bright eyes.

"Is Rumpelstiltskin as bad as everyone in school says?" Her voice was gentle and filled with curiosity. She reminded Belle of herself, come to think of it.

"He's not that bad. His bark tends to be worse than his bite," she reassured Grace with a pat on the shoulder. Unless, of course, you broke one of his deals and Rumpel had a temper tantrum. Jefferson snickered, but Belle ignored it. "Believe it or not, he cares very dearly for children. Perhaps you should give him a hug sometime and see for yourself."

Belle could swear the wheels in Grace's little head were spinning faster than Rumpel's wheel ever did.

...

"So here's what's going to happen," Jefferson said as he poured two cups of hot tea. The steam curdled in the air and brushed his nose, making it twitch. Belle sat on the couch in his living room, waiting to begin. He had sent Grace outside to make snow angels since he never wanted his daughter near anything magical. Not after what happened last time. "You're going to drink this..."

He added a couple of ingredients and then offered the teacup to Belle. She took it into her hands, but was hesitant to bring it to her lips. Jefferson didn't blame her, really. Emma most likely warned people against the madman on the hill after that debacle with Mary Margaret.

"It's not drugged, I promise," he said, winking.

Of course, that didn't help much, either. It wasn't like he would admit it if it was drugged. But Belle had a habit of seeing the best in people, so she took a small sip. Her head lolled into her hand and a moan escaped her throat.

"Whoa," Belle mumbled, her eyes stretching wide. Jefferson knew she was feeling her brain throbbing as the potion took effect. He was regretful for it, but it was necessary if Belle wanted to do this.

"Yeah, I know. It's pretty strong stuff." He tried to mask his guiltiness and failed. He settled on the seat beside her with his own teacup. From his vest, he pulled out a thin glass vial. "Now, what you'll need to do is recall a memory. Your best memory of your time with Rumpelstiltskin. Don't worry-I won't be able to see it. It'll pass into this vial. You won't lose the memory, either; it'll just be the essence of the memory. Consider this proof of your everlasting love for him. Choose wisely: he'll feel what you felt when he relives it through your eyes."

The teacup clinked as it dropped back onto the plate in her lap. She pinched the vial between two fingers, as though testing if it was real.

"That's brilliant," she breathed in wonder. Jefferson couldn't help but smile proudly.

"Thank you," he replied. If he was wearing his hat, he'd tip it for her. "Close your eyes and concentrate on the memory. It'll have to be vivid. Try to recall every detail you can about it: every smell, every sensation, every word you or Rumpel said...or didn't say..." He coughed, a signal of his discomfort.

"It's okay. We haven't...yet..." Jefferson turned his head away and waved her into silence.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. Just concentrate on the memory, please," he insisted hastily. A shudder passed along his spine. The last thing he ever wanted burned into his brain was the imp's possible intimate relations. It was a good thing he wasn't required to view the memory himself.

He glanced over at Belle to see if she was concentrating. She wasn't. Her eyes were still open and she looked rather uncertain.

"What's your price?" Smart girl. Rumpelstiltskin had rubbed off on her. Fortunately for her, after working for Rumpelstiltskin he vowed never to be like the imp in any way, shape, or form. The leather pants were the exception.

"I don't ask for one," he declared, arching his eyebrows. "Not from you, anyway. Think of it as a dose of Christmas spirit and goodwill towards men. Or, in your case, _women_."

Belle took ahold of the vial and closed her eyes. It was easy to choose her favorite memory of Rumpelstiltskin. The recollection of it flooded her mind and it was like she was reliving it once again.

_Admit it; you're happy I'm back. _

_ I'm not _un_happy..._

...

Christmas arrived sooner than Rumpel expected. In the blink of an eye, if it must be measured. He almost forgot to buy Belle's present due to the swift passage of time, but now he had it beautifully gift-wrapped in golden paper and topped with a blue silk bow. It was waiting underneath the tree that Belle helped decorate in the living room.

He was excited to have her open it, but patience was a virtue. This was to be their first Christmas together in Storybrooke and he wanted it to be memorable.

The evening could not come quick enough, but when it did, Rumpel was pleased. He already had two mugs of homemade hot chocolate ready for him and Belle. To express some last minute Christmas spirit, he gave Belle the most tiny marshmallows.

There was a knock at the front door and he gave a little jump. Some of the cocoa sloshed out of his cup, but he didn't mind it. Belle was here! He hurried to let her inside.

"Rumpel," Belle happily greeted and threw her arms around his neck.

He pulled her close and returned her hug, burying his face in the soft curls of her hair. Gods, she was frozen! Her cheeks were rosier than usual from the biting wind and it felt like porcelain when her skin glided over his. Her breath fogged in the air as she lifted her head to place a small kiss on his lips. There wasn't any mistletoe hanging above their heads. It fascinated Rumpel that Belle desired to kiss him _just because. _

"Come in, out of the cold," he said, ushering her inside. She began to unwind the woolen scarf from her neck and removed her jacket. Ever the gentleman in her presence, he took it and carefully stowed it away on a hook. "And, uh...how was your father?"

Belle had spent a few hours of Christmas Day with her father since it was the holidays. She still didn't fully forgive him for nearly sending her over the border, but she couldn't bear the thought of leaving him to spend Christmas alone. Her heart was too pure for such matters.

"He's caught the cold that's going around, but he was happy to see me. He's still not comfortable with the idea of you being my true love, but it's the holidays, so he's not allowed to complain." Not that Belle would listen to any of her father's complaints. No one decided her fate but her. His brave Belle.

Rumpel escorted her into the kitchen and quickly handed her a mug of steaming hot chocolate. It was then that he took the time to admire how beautiful she was tonight. There were still snowflakes melting in her hair, making it glisten with diamonds. Her cheeks were red, the blood pooling underneath ivory skin. A layer of chocolate was left behind on her upper lip, but her tongue darted out to lick it away. The dress she wore draped her curves in all the right places, drawing his eyes downward.

"Like what you see?" Belle smiled cunningly over the rim of her mug. Rumpel's eyes deliberately lingered a second longer before rising to her face again.

"Immensely," he drawled, pasting on a sly grin. She extended a finger and stroked his crimson tie. Gods, she was teasing him and his body eagerly, feverishly responded. He cleared his throat, ignoring the strain under his belt. "Should we...open presents?"

Belle's face lit up with excitement.

"That would be wonderful," she exclaimed.

Carrying their mugs of cocoa, they went arm-in-arm into the living room. He had made an earnest effort to tidy it up. The only light source came from the colorful bulbs on the tree. It was a rightful pain in the arse to get those bulbs to light up-once one went out, they all went out-but Rumpel was glad to behold the result. The tree looked amazing and the glow of it complimented Belle's beauty all the more.

Rumpel retrieved Belle's gift from under the tree.

"I don't mean to sound cliche, Belle, but when I found this, I thought of you." He handed the narrow package to her. She set her mug aside and carefully tore it open. When she finally held it in her hands, he could tell she did not recognize it for what it was. "It's called a Kindle. Emma assisted me with ordering it for you. You see, Belle, it's an electronic device that will allow you to carry dozens of books in the palm of your hand, all without bearing the weight of those books. If you want, Emma can teach you how to use it. I would, but I'm afraid I'm not very tech-savvy myself."

Belle cradled it in her arms and marveled over her reflection in the shiny black screen. Dozens of books, her own library on the go. It was perfect.

"Oh, thank you, Rumpel," she cried out joyfully. She rushed to hug him tightly, proving her affection for his present. He stumbled backward as she collided into him, but he caught himself from toppling. His fingers wove into her hair, caressing her head.

"You're most welcome, sweetheart," he murmured into the juncture between her neck and shoulder. "I would do anything to keep you happy." He hoped she understood he meant that with all his heart, shriveled as it may be.

Belle stepped back and her hands delved into the pockets of her dress.

"Time for your present," she sang. He blinked. His present? Belle got him a present? For some reason, he hadn't expected one.

She tucked something into his palm. He unfurled his fingers to find a glass vial. Inside, a thin stream of silver floated and coiled. His breath caught in his throat. How could he not recognize this for what it was?

"Belle," he gasped, turning the vial over in his hands. "Is this...?" She bit softly on her lip and nodded.

"At first, I couldn't figure out what I should get you. I asked a number of people, but the suggestions weren't very good. Then I ran into Jefferson. I'm giving you a gift of the heart, to prove to you how great my love is for you. This is my favorite memory of the time we spent together."

Rumpel stared at the vial in awe. A gift of the heart, Belle's heart. This present, though unnatural to others, was worth more than ten mountains of gold to him. At this rate, a Kindle paled in comparison. He had half a mind to buy her a ring.

Under Belle's curious eye, he uncapped the vial and held it close under his nose. The stream of silver slithered over the rim and wafted around him. It seized his mind and he tumbled into one of the armchairs. He barely heard Belle calling his name, for it was oddly replaced with her own voice from days past.

He closed his eyes and dived headfirst into Belle's memory.

...

_"Admit it; you're happy I'm back," Belle's voice lilted. It was delicious as cream, soft as rose petals in the springtime wind. _

_ It took a moment for Rumpel's mind to adjust and settle into the memory. It was viewed through Belle's own eyes, of course. Everything about it felt so real, as if he were truly back in his Dark Castle. When Belle spoke, the sound vibrated in his own throat. _

_ "I'm not _un_happy," his Dark One reptilian self replied from where he perched at his wheel. _

_ It was surreal beyond comprehension, viewing himself without being attached to that body. He might have wondered what Belle ever saw in that pitiful little monster, but her emotions of that time dominated supreme. There was incredible yearning there, something not quite love but fairly close. A thought passed through her head about how lonely that creature must be, of how good a man she believed he could be. It was powerful, intense, brutally honest, stripping his soul bare with every passing beat of her heart. _

_ So this was how Belle truly felt. She acknowledged his flaws and yet embraced them. She desired to be his hero, his strength, his light. She was drawn to him by some rich, unexplainable force he now knew to be true love. This was her favorite memory. _

_ It was drafty in that castle. Rumpel tried not to linger over the fact that Belle was in a dress. Her delicate white hands smoothed over the silk sky-blue skirts. Was this how it felt to have...no, best not linger on that, either. Her womanly wiles were rubbing off on him already. For one thing, he never knew Belle was menstruating at the time of this memory. It was there, fleeting through her mind as she walked to his side. Bravely, Belle took the straw from his golden hand and sat on the stool opposite him. That past form of his gazed back, perplexed. _

_ Gods, now his hand-no, _her _hand-was on his thigh. The muscles tensed under that strict, skin-tight leather. A rush of courage and longing pounded through Belle's veins. Only then did Rumpel realize how much Belle had wanted this, not only for the purpose of breaking his curse, but because she wanted so desperately to believe there was a chance of love waiting around the corner. _

_ "Why did you come back?" His past self questioned, leaning forward the tiniest bit. Belle's hand slid along his thigh. _My, _Rumpel thought, reeling from the strangeness of the memory's effects. _This sort of magic takes the meaning of being conceited to a whole new level.

_ "I wasn't going to, but something changed my mind," Belle answered. _

_ The briefest image of Regina crossed her mind and this time Rumpel learned firsthand of the innocence of her intentions. That was because the image was swallowed by something warm, bright, and inviting. Hope. _

Ah, here it comes, _Rumpel thought, bracing himself for that tender moment that flipped his world upside-down once upon a time. Belle leaned forward, her chin rising, lips parting. Her blood roared in her ears and his name danced on her tongue. And his past self did not stop it from happening. Their lips met chastely and there was an explosion of pure white brilliance in Belle's mind. She was so happy, her soul light as a feather, her heart so whole..._

_ This was love. _True love, _Rumpel mused. Why hadn't he believed it before? _

_ He feared the part that came next. But the white light faded and he glimpsed his human face. And that yearning finally evolved into its final form in Belle's mind. Before he was sucked out of the memory, there was a final thought to bid him goodbye. _

I love you.

...

"Rumpel? Rumpel, please say something. I'm so sorry," Belle was apologizing profusely and kneeling at his side, trying to shake him awake. His mind felt addled by the sudden return to reality, but the minute he looked upon Belle's face his worries were healed. Gently, he took her hands, kissed each one, and encouraged her to share the chair with him.

"Sorry? Why should you be sorry? That...was the best gift anyone has ever given me," he said. Awkwardness aside, the strength of Belle's love still filled him with endless joy. Cupping her chin, he kissed her lips passionately. "And I love you, too."

Belle sighed with blessed relief and kissed him back. He basked in the comfort of her warmth for a good long moment. Then a quip formed in his mind and he could not resist.

"By the way," he said, prodding her shoulder. She gazed down at him with her head tilted in that cute, curious manner. "Kissing yourself? Not as fun as it sounds." Belle gave a startled gasp and then burst out laughing. Her body trembled against his as she giggled.

Belle fell into his arms again and he took the opportunity to dig out his phone from his pocket. Scrolling through the short list of contacts, he located the right number and sent out a quick message.

_I owe you. _Jefferson must have been waiting for it, since he replied back within seconds.

_I know. _

...


	9. Love Bug

_**A/N: All I have to say about writing this one is that I really, really needed some Rumbelle fluff after that winter finale. I'm glad I updated that Christmas one before watching the finale because I was completely and emotionally torn afterwards. I hope the rest of you Rumbellers are holding it together. For now, I hope you enjoy this bit of fluff, perhaps with some egg nog on the side. **_

_**Love Bug**_

Even though it was the middle of winter and the streets were slick with ice and snow alike, Belle always went out of her way to visit Rumpel's pawnshop in the morning. She didn't mind using the odd electrical device known as the hair dryer to ensure that her hair was not wet before leaving the house. She didn't mind dressing in layers or donning scarves and gloves to shield her skin from the bitter temperatures. It was enough of a reward to see Rumpel for a brief time before the day commenced.

Belle could not help her excitement over seeing Rumpel. Their relationship had been going so well lately. The smile was too demanding, victoriously spreading over her face as she rushed into the unforgiving Maine air. She even stopped by Granny's Diner and ordered breakfast for two. Rumpel would simply have to return the favor and cook for her one day. He boasted once or twice about his skills in satisfying one's appetite.

Now that she thought about it, Belle hoped he was referring to culinary skills. Surely he didn't keep that old apron in his kitchen for show.

Belle trekked through the winter wonderland Storybrooke had become. She was one of the few citizens on the street, a single flower among the ice. Snowflakes kissed her cheeks, nose, and eyelashes. She longed for Rumpel's warm embrace and his silky Scottish accent in her ear. If that man read the dictionary, Belle would gladly pull up a stool and listen.

A surprise waited in store for her when she reached Rumpel's shop-and not a pleasant one, either.

The first oddity was the sign on the door, still flipped to read _Closed _to all visitors. Sometimes Rumpel did that when he wanted to be left alone, so she quickly disregarded it. Belle juggled the bag of food in her arms as she reached for the knob. The door did not budge. She frowned in puzzlement. Pressing her forehead to the glass, she peered inside, but there was no movement. Twice she knocked and called out, but there was no sign of the owner.

Rumpel was not there. How curious.

Despite her attempts to remain calm and logical about this, Belle started to worry. What could have happened to make Rumpel choose not to open his shop for the day? According to him, he opened his shop even on days when there was snow. His reasoning was that desperate people would walk through rain, snow, or fire to make a deal with him.

She dug out the sleek cell phone he purchased for her and dialed his number. Her knees knocked together in face of the biting cold. She readjusted her scarf so that it covered her chin and tucked the bag of food against her chest. At this rate, the food would have icicles hanging off it.

"Belle?" She pulled the phone away from her ear just to check the screen and be certain she didn't call Sneezy by mistake. The voice on the other end was too nasally and miserable to belong to Rumpelstiltskin. She pressed the phone to her ear again.

"Rumpel? Is that you?" She bit her lip to keep from blurting out the obvious that he sounded downright horrible. There was the trumpeting noise of Rumpel blowing his nose.

"Yes, it's me," he moaned. "I'm sorry I neglected to call you. I must have come down with a cold." The only other explanation was that he was pinching his nose to distort his voice. Of course, that was ridiculous.

Belle's heart hammered with unrelenting sympathy. Rumpel was most likely alone in his pink house with no one to nurse him back to health. No one to even prepare hot soup and restock his supply of tissues.

"Don't worry. I'll be there as soon as I can," Belle promised. Rumpel cleared his throat. It sounded worse than the grating of a chalkboard. She made a mental note to pick up medicine on the way.

"You don't have to do that," Rumpel insisted weakly. The congestion told her a different story altogether. Rumpel may not believe he deserved such care, but she would give it nonetheless. "I don't want you to waste your day or energy on me. I'll survive."

He slipped into a fearsome sneezing fit. His heaving became muffled and she guessed he was burying his face in the pillow to staunch it. Rumpel made Sneezy sound completely free of allergies. It was true he would survive this brief illness, but it didn't mean he had to be left to suffer.

"Nonsense. I would never consider you a waste of time, Rumpelstiltskin. You need me," she argued with finality. She was already navigating the icy sidewalk, heading in the direction of Sneezy's convenience store. Rumpel let out a ragged sigh, admitting defeat.

"Have I ever told you how much I appreciate your selfless nature, Belle?" He sounded proud of her, even through the layer of mucus clogging his throat. Belle smiled.

"You can tell me when I get there."

...

Belle was grateful for the warmth of Sneezy's convenience store. By the time she reached it, her fair skin was chafed from the wind, the apples of her cheeks redder than the fruit that hung from Regina's tree. She was so bundled in her coat and scarf that her sparkling blue eyes were the only remaining part of her to be seen.

There was no one inside the store except Sneezy, who announced his presence with a head-jerking sneeze.

"Close the door, quick," he demanded, his voice stuffier than usual due to the wad of tissues pressed to his nose. The poor man was infected with the cold or allergies or both. Belle didn't see how it could be much worse for him, but she obliged by shutting the door firmly. "It's so cold and windy out there. I never even had the will to go to Granny's for breakfast. I'll be stuck with this cold until March. And then it'll be allergy season. Ugh..."

Sneezy's head rocketed forward and he launched another sneeze into his tissue. Belle felt sorry for the dwarf. Her fingers crinkled the white bag containing her breakfast from Granny's.

"Do you have a microwave or anything you could use to heat up food?" Sneezy informed her about the back room of the store and how there was a cheap microwave back there. He had heated up two cups of herbal tea already. She marched to the counter and placed the white bag in front of him. "It's breakfast from Granny's. Scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, pancakes, and a jar of syrup. It was meant for Rumpel and I, but you should have it."

Sneezy regarded her kind gesture with wide, wondrous eyes. Before Snow White's example, not many people treated the dwarves with respect. Belle always thought of them fondly, ever since first meeting Grumpy in that tavern.

"Thank you, Belle, but I couldn't possibly...if it's the Dark One's breakfast..." He tried pushing the bag across the counter, but Belle insistently shoved it against the white coat that covered his chest.

"I insist. I'd rather not let good food go to waste. Rumpel will probably have trouble eating much of anything this morning," she said with an encouraging smile. Sneezy thanked her again and stored the white bag in the corner of the counter.

"What can I do for you?" Before she could explain Rumpel's illness, he held up a finger, signaling a bright thought. "I'll make you a special deal. In return for the breakfast, anything you want today will be on the house. You know, spreading the holiday spirit."

Sneezy blinked shyly at her. The dwarves seemed to admire her after the way she helped Grumpy with his true love back in their world.

"How do you treat a cold? How do you make someone with a cold feel better?" She corrected when confusion passed over Sneezy's face. His shoulders slumped in dismay.

"In my case, you don't. It's an ongoing issue." Just for emphasis, he let out a roaring sneeze. Half his face was buried in that wad of tissues. "However, I'd be happy to point out a few items that might help."

Belle followed Sneezy along one aisle. He filled her arms with boxes of tissues, several types of medicine, and an assortment of soups and teas. She planned to fix a special cup of tea for Rumpel the moment she walked through his door.

They passed a large revolving rack of cards on the way back to the register. _Maybe I should buy a get-well card for Rumpel. It might cheer him up, _she thought, scanning the colorful cards. With Sneezy's help, she selected one she thought he might like.

"I hope you feel better, too," Belle sincerely wished the dwarf as she gathered her bag of goods and dashed into the cold again.

"Not likely," Sneezy mumbled before falling into a miserable wheezing fit. He had been this way throughout his entire existence. Most people pitied him, but he was used to it. At this point, he wouldn't know how to deal with _not _being sick. The relief of his allergies might kill him. "They don't call me Sneezy for nothing."

At least Belle was generous enough to give him breakfast. _Such a lovely girl, that Belle, _he thought and, smiling with content, he hurried to heat up his food.

...

When Belle finally arrived at Rumpel's house, the cold had taken its toll on her. The ivory skin most women in her kingdom envied was now terribly red and raw. Her legs were numb as she strolled up the path leading to the infamously pink house where her beloved resided. It was a good thing she thought to wear gloves that morning or all ten digits would be frozen sausages in her pockets.

None of it mattered to her, so long as she could visit Rumpel and ease his suffering.

She knocked hard on the front door, but there was no answer. Obviously he must be inside. Where would an ill man go in this weather? Out to buy more tissues? It would be a stroke of cruel irony since two boxes swung in a bag on her wrist.

"Rumpel, it's me," she called through the door and knocked one more time. Nothing but silence returned. A new thought occurred to her. Maybe he was too ill to rise from his bed.

Just like she had done at the pawnshop, she turned the doorknob and found it locked. There was no doormat on the porch where a key could be commonly concealed, nor were there any potted plants to serve the same purpose. _If I was Rumpel, where would I hide the key? _Then again, if she was Rumpel, she would carry a key at all times.

She paced the porch, ignoring the chill of winter, thinking. _Thud, thud, thump. _She stopped. The third wooden slat sounded...off. Hollow. Belle stepped back and forth, noting the difference in sounds. She kicked some of the snow away. Under her boot, there was a hairline crack in the porch, almost invisible to the eye. If noticed, one would likely dismiss it as proof of some accident or aging of the house, but Belle peered closer.

As the Dark One and paranoid that people would try to steal what belonged to him, Rumpel had a habit of forging unique hiding places deep within his territory. She was willing to bet this was one such hiding place.

Stripping off her gloves, she dug her nails into the thin crack. She pulled upwards and the slat gradually lifted to expose a narrow space under the porch. Hidden there, glittering as the winter sun touched it, was a key.

Rumpel always favored deception.

Belle quickly unlocked the front door, returned the key, and slipped inside the house. Her body welcomed the warmth. Layers of fabric were shed from her body-scarf, jacket, earmuffs, boots. She headed upstairs and found Rumpel in his bedroom.

The man had seen better days. His hair and sleepwear were disheveled from too much tossing and turning. A mountain of tissues sat on the bedside table and a thick wad of it was clutched in his hand. His nose was red from the rubbing.

At the moment, he was sleeping uneasily and Belle did not want to disturb him. Instead, she crept to the other side of the bed, set the bag of goods down, and quietly crawled atop the covers to lay beside him. Ever so gently, she nestled her head atop his chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his beating heart.

"Mmm..."

Rumpel shifted and slowly stirred from his sleep. His whole body stretched leisurely under the blanket. Belle suspected most of the stretching was a ploy since he took the opportunity to drape his arm around her waist and pull her closer. When she glanced up, his deep brown eyes were watching her, admiring her, though they were a bit hazier due to his sickness.

"Not many people are brave enough to sneak into my bed and disturb the beast when he's sleeping."

Belle balanced her chin on his chest, never breaking eye contact with him.

"You are not the beast you think you are," she argued vehemently. His hand soothingly rubbed her back. Belle was suddenly reminded that she was supposed to be taking care of him, not the other way around. "I told you I'd be here."

"Nurse Belle reporting for duty," he drawled drowsily. Dropping the tissue on his bedside table, he wrapped one of her dark curls around his elegant finger. He grinned slyly, as if lingering on some inside joke she did not understand. "I would have let you in from the cold, but..." He gestured to the bed and then coaxed the remaining sleep from his eyes.

"It's okay. I figured you'd be in bed if you weren't feeling well. I found the key," she assured him, patting his chest comfortingly. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. She felt the smile over her skin.

"Of course you did. I refuse to take after everyone else in this town and hide it under a painfully obvious doormat that reads 'Home Sweet Home.'"

The mention of the friendly phrase made Belle think of the get-well card. She jumped up to retrieve the bag of supplies from Sneezy's store.

"I stopped at the convenience store on the way here. Tissues, cough medicine, sleep medicine, alphabet soup, nose spray, a fresh box of tea, and...a get-well card." Belle announced every item, removing them from the bag and stocking them neatly next to his bed. Immediately, she extended the card to him. For a moment he eyed it in awe, apparently shocked to have received one.

"Belle, honestly, you didn't have to go to the trouble of-" She silenced his modesty by encouraging him to read it. "_True Love will cure any illness,_" he read from the front. When he opened the card, there were red kisses printed all around. Rumpel's finger hovered over each one and Belle realized he was counting. "Does this mean you'll give me...ten kisses to make me feel better?"

There was that deliciously sly grin again. The challenge was too tempting for Belle to resist. True love was, after all, the most powerful magic. She leaned over his body, aiming for his mouth, but he pressed two fingers to her lips to stop her.

"Not on the lips, sweetheart. You'll catch my cold," he warned. Belle wanted to argue that she was susceptible to his cold just by being so close to him, but he was adamant. Anything but the lips, for he refused to drag her down in suffering with him.

Belle began to count her ten kisses.

She placed one kiss on each cheek, all the while savoring the feel of his breath on her skin. Her lips trailed to his neck and she placed one there. Her tongue darted out to taste his skin and Rumpel's head fell back on the pillow. A pleasurable moan escaped his mouth. Belle longed to seize it.

Taking his hands in hers, Belle brought them to her lips and delicately kissed each palm once. He almost denied her that, too, but Belle was having none of it. His hands slipped from her grasp and cupped her face, his thumbs stroking her rosy cheeks.

"How many was that?" His breath came in heavy gasps, his accent thicker, but Belle doubted it had anything to do with his cold. He was coming down with something else entirely. The love bug. Some might argue it was incurable.

"Five," Belle answered. Five more kisses to go.

She straddled his hips. Her fingers flew to the buttons on his silk pajama top and she undid them, exposing his chest. Lowering her head, she placed a tender kiss directly over his heart. Then she did it again while his hand wove into her curls. Scooting backwards, she uncovered his body for her viewing pleasure, tossing the blanket aside for the time being.

"Belle, what are you doing?" He picked up his head from the pillow to watch. Belle had reached his legs.

Under her careful guidance, she rolled the hem of his pants up, away from his ankle, until she was free to observe the scar that branded his otherwise smooth skin. Rumpel was always insecure about that scar. Growing flustered, he tried to hide it under the blanket, but Belle's hands kept his leg steady. Whereas the scar branded him a coward in his eyes and those that had lived in his village, to her it was a mark of bravery, of loving his son enough to do anything to protect him. It was a mark not only of the man he once was, but the man he could be again.

Belle planted a kiss on his scar, much to his amazement. Crawling up along his body, she granted one more kiss to his heart.

"One left," Rumpel said. He never removed his gaze from her, as though afraid she might vanish through his fingers like smoke. Belle leaned her face close to his, drowning in his dark eyes. She understood the consequences, but she enjoyed taking the risk in his name.

Deliberately, she pressed her lips to his, sealing them with a fiery kiss. Her nerves crackled with excitement, especially when he eagerly returned the kiss.

"I think I feel better already. True love certainly works much better than anything that dwarf sells," Rumpel said, peering up at her and more alert than when he first woke.

Rumpel turned his head to glare at the tissues and medicine on the bedside table. Belle expected that he would require her special kisses every time he ran into a problem. Colds, bad days, the occasional boo-boo...but Belle also predicted that she would never complain.

"How about I make us some tea?" She rolled off of him and grabbed the box of tea from the table. The bed groaned as her weight left it and it groaned again when Rumpel sat up to watch her leave.

"Belle?"

His voice hesitantly called her back when she reached the threshold. It was fine and delicate as a teacup chipping, but she caught it easily. She looked over her shoulder. Alone in that big bed, worn down by his illness and giving her an almost apologetic look, he appeared rather small and sheepish. She waited patiently as he gathered the courage to tell her what was on his mind.

"Would you mind...staying with me tonight?"

Belle was surprised by the request. They were still exploring their relationship in order to do it right this time around. There hadn't yet been anymore talk about her moving in since she got a room at Granny's. She deciphered the underlying message in Rumpel's request: _I need you. _

"Not tonight." He frowned in disappointment, but what pained her more was the quick understanding reflected in his eyes. She turned toward him again, holding onto that box of tea for dear life. "Or, should I say, not _only _tonight. Forever."

_It's forever, dearie. _He once promised her that so very long ago. Rumpel had not forgotten.

"Forever," he agreed.

...

Thanks to Belle's extraordinary care, Rumpel's cold was cured in a matter of days. The sniffling stopped, his throat no longer felt sore and coated in lava, his head no longer stuffed with cotton, and his strength returned. He even found the will to venture to his pawnshop one morning, feeling lighter in spirit than he had in centuries. All thanks to Belle.

It was there, on one frigid, gray morning that his cell phone rang. It had only been an hour or so since he left the house. As usual, there were no customers that required his attention, so he checked the screen for caller ID. Home.

He smiled.

"Miss me already?" He pictured his beautiful Belle, lounging comfortably in bed, her curls gloriously tousled on the pillow, her lips parted slightly in yearning for his kisses. They'd been doing plenty of that since he got better.

"I don't mean to bother you, Rumpel," she said. Little did she know that there was absolutely nothing she could do that would bother him. He should have been overjoyed to hear her silvery voice. Already he detected the problem and deduced her reason for calling. "We're out of tissues."

He sighed just as she sneezed in his ear. Last night, Belle had been perfectly fine in health...or so he assumed. Then he remembered that searing kiss she had given him on the lips when he was ill. She had been playing with fire and now she got burned for it. _All it takes is one time, _he thought darkly.

His sweet Belle was daring to a fault.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he lightly chided. He told her he'd be there soon and he promptly hurried out of his shop and into the cold, rushing to Belle's rescue. _Dr. 'Stiltskin is on duty this morning, _he thought with more than glee than he should have.

...

_**I kind of feel there should be an advertisement for Nyquil or Kleenex in there somewhere. (-; **_

_**Wow, the reviews are almost up to 50. I'm glad there are so many people out there enjoying these Rumbelle one-shots. I would like to happily thank all those that have read and reviewed. I love every word the readers have to say. If I don't update again this week, then I will say Happy New Year's to everyone and I will bring you more Rumbelle goodness in 2014. **_


	10. Moving On

_**A/N: Happy New Year, Rumbellers! Let's hope this year is a good one for everyone. I'm a bit sorry to admit that my first Rumbelle one-shot of 2014 is an angsty one, but this one was begging to be written. Don't worry; I'm still confident that we will see our dear Rumpel on Once again. **_

_**Moving On**_

The stars were dimmer in the night sky than any other night Belle remembered. Instead of bright and glittering, twinkling like white diamonds, these stars were cold and distant, more like sparks quickly losing their will to burn. One by one, thye fizzled out. Belle noted it time and again with a painfully heavy heart. In fact, everything in the world seemed duller and grayer without Rumpelstiltskin's wit and magic. Her heart hammered hard in her throat as another star winked.

An unforgiving wind nipped her skin, making her shiver violently. She pulled her shawl tighter over her shoulders, the fringes falling over the golden silk of her dress. It wasn't much warmer in this New Storybrooke than the old one. The New Storybrooke-that's what everyone called it. The town of Storybrooke had dropped down into the Enchanted Forest along with its citizens. Fabricated from magic, Storybrooke did not belong in the Land Without Magic anymore than fairy-tale creatures. So when everyone returned home, the town came along for the ride.

In spite of the drop in temperature, Belle wore her golden dress. She discovered it inside the black armoire in the back room of the pawnshop. That black armoire was where Rumpel stored everything of value to him. Her fingertips glided over the smooth silk, remembering the night she met her true love. Whereas other women wore black in states of mourning, she felt it was only right to wear the golden dress to honor her love for Rumpelstiltskin.

Footsteps echoed on the sidewalk, momentarily commanding her attention away from the lackluster stars above. An inky shadow slithered over the pathway. Belle's hands clasped her knees, the fabric of her dress bunching in her fists, and the hairs on the nape of her neck stood on end. Even if Rumpel was...gone...there were still people out there dangerous enough to approach the Dark One's beloved with the intention of exacting revenge for the hurt Rumpel once caused.

It was only Bae.

A soft sigh of relief escaped Belle's red lips and her nerves relaxed. Her fists released the golden fabric, though it was now wrinkled due to the way she grasped it. He stopped within a foot of her, his shoulders hunched against the cold, but she avoided gazing into his eyes. Those soulful brown eyes were the same shade as his father's.

"I've been looking around for you. I should have checked here first," he said with a weak smile.

Belle recognized it for what it truly was: a mask to shield the torment writhing underneath. It was the same smile she practiced wearing for the past day. Bae's smile faltered as he examined the grand, pink estate that once belonged to the most fearsome man in Storybrooke. Belle had no desire to stray from it. It was there that she felt closest to Rumpelstiltskin.

"How are you feeling?"

Exhausted, emotionally and physically. Frozen. Not because of the biting air on her cheek but because of her heart's inability to make sense of the recent trauma she'd been forced to bear. Her mind kept flashing back to that dreadful moment: her body bound by magic, helplessly watching as the cursed dagger drove into the back of Rumpel's father, as Rumpel thrust it deeper still so that he may die with his father, the man she loved vanishing into a sudden, blinding burst of white light...

She _felt _broken-hearted for the second time in her life, but no words formed on her lips to convey her internal distress. The words snuggled inside her throat, clung to the roof of her mouth like the world's thickest peanut butter. Bae tentatively took a seat on the porch, his hips lightly brushing hers. He was so close, a fingertip's length away, and yet so far.

"Everyone is gathering at Granny's Diner, celebrating our return to the Enchanted Forest," he informed her dryly. He clasped his hands together, breathing into them occasionally for warmth. Tilting his head back, he joined her in looking up at the stars. "Snow and Charming were there for a little while, but they went home. They're trying to come to terms with never seeing Emma again."

Belle's stomach clenched with remorse as Bae's voice broke over Emma's name. She pictured Snow White and Prince Charming, symbols of goodness and strength, hiding their woes behind feigned laughter and one too many drinks. Losing a child was often as painful as losing one's true love, if not more. It was an ache that could not be soothed overnight.

Uneasy silence passed between them. _Thump, thump, thump; _Belle heard her heart pulsing under her pale skin. Did Bae hear it, too? _Turn, turn, turn; _Belle pictured the wheel in Rumpel's basement spinning. Would it ever spin again? Not under its master's hand, never again.

"Belle," Bae called quietly yet firmly. He wanted her to listen closely. As a token of comfort, he reached over and took one of her hands. They were cold, but Belle was consoled by how real they felt. "You haven't said more than two words since..."

He trailed off, unable to say what they were both thinking. Belle squeezed his hand, silently reassuring him that she was listening. Her lip quivered and she bit down on it, smothering the sob that clogged her throat. She had to be strong.

"You don't have to be strong for anyone, Belle," Bae said, answering her thoughts. The pulsing under her skin quickened. It was getting harder to quell her grief. _Be strong, be strong, be strong..._"Don't hold it down. I know you're hurting deeply. My father used to do that, too. Bottled it up until he exploded, usually at the wrong person. What he didn't understand was that it wasn't shameful to show his emotions, or to let someone inside. Sometimes you have to let someone else be strong for you. You have to let it out, or else you risk never letting go."

That was her entire problem in a nutshell. In her mind, she knew it was healthier to let her grieving run its course and move on. It was impossible to change the past. But in her heart, she was afraid-oh, she was so afraid-that if she allowed herself to properly grieve for Rumpelstiltskin, she would in fact begin to move on, only keeping him alive in her memory. With time, she would forget every fine detail of Rumpelstiltskin's presence in her life, starting with the way butterflies flitted through her belly every time he grinned in his cunning manner. She might forget the scent of his cologne or the way he always managed to slip up behind her unheard, surprising her with a gentle touch or kiss that was hesitant enough to make her think he was asking if it was alright. His way with words, the hint of amber in his brown eyes when the sunlight hit them just right, the passion in his kisses as if it were the first and last time, his whispered promises in her ear, coated with a velvet accent.

Belle was afraid to forget.

She wasn't aware she was crying until the stars blurred, reduced to smears of color. She tasted the salt on her lips. Bae pulled a napkin from his pocket and offered it to her. She only nodded her head in gratitude, dabbing away the tears.

"I know how it feels to bear the burden of a broken heart," he told her forlornly. "My father died as an honorable man, but it still hurts to accept that he's gone. It's never exactly been proven, but I like to think that Emma is my true love. And I've already lost her three times. Not only that, but I've lost my son twice. I don't even know if I'll ever see them again. My only comfort is that they're back there, in that world, together and safe."

"Have hope." The words startled Bae just as much as they startled Belle herself. Her voice was weaker than usual, having been a whole day since she last used it. "Emma and Henry are alive and well. No one can ever fully predict what's in the cards for us, not even someone as powerful as Rumpelstiltskin. One day, if the gods are good, you may see them again."

Bae gaped openly at her in the same way he would if someone had three heads. Then his surprise dissolved into satisfaction.

"Good to know you still have a voice. My father was right. He told me that you're selfless in nature, so much that you're willing to cast away your own troubles in favor of easing someone else's in their time of need. It was one of the things he admired most about you. At least he finally found his own strength and did the brave thing."

Belle nodded in agreement. She may not have been happy about Rumpel being gone, but she was proud of him for the way in which he sacrificed himself. He had died a hero.

"Do the brave thing and bravery will follow," she recited.

It was hard to believe it was near thirty years ago that she spoke those words to Rumpel in his castle. One of these days, she planned to journey back to that castle and restore it to its former glory. Maybe Bae would accompany her and resume his role as her unofficial stepson. Both of them had lost people they loved. She hoped they could find a way to move on together. If anything, she vowed to protect Bae in Rumpel's name.

"Belle, I want you to know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I'll be here," he promised sincerely. He started to get up, but she placed a hand on his shoulder.

"What was he like...before he became the Dark One?" It was a part of Rumpel's past that he was always reluctant to reveal to her, mainly because he believed he could never be that man again. Bae settled back down and allowed his mind to wander to his youth. Belle waited patiently.

"My father was labeled a coward for running from the first Ogre War. What no one in our village seemed to ackowledge was that he wasn't running _from _the war, but he was running _to _his family. To me, he was always quiet, but strong. Hell, he raised me by himself on a spinner's wages and never once complained about it. I was enough for him then and he was happy. He was a good man, Belle. The same good man that sacrificed himself not twenty-four hours ago."

From that point, Belle and Bae exchanged tales about the time they'd spent with Rumpelstiltskin: the good, the bad, the happy, and the sad. They talked until their tears had run dry, until their sides ached from laughter, until their tongues were tired, and until their hearts were full enough to burst.

...

_She was dancing. _

_ Swiftly, gracefully, around and around a ballroom she did not recognize. There was a glass ceiling, but the light outside was so white and bright that she could depict nothing beyond it. Golden pillars lined the room, giving her the impression of being inside a royal castle. The marble floor was so shiny that Belle glimpsed her reflection amidst the latticework of amber, red, and green. She was clad in the golden dress, but Belle knew this was not reality. _

_ "This is a dream," she concluded out loud. She was not alone. Someone was dancing with her, their body fitting seamlessly with hers, their hands gentle and warm on her hips. In his arms, she felt safe. She was floating on air, floating amongst clouds and angels. _

_ "I would expect so," he drawled, a layer of laughter in his familiar voice. Belle's nerves became numb with both surprise and happiness. He curled a strand of her hair around his finger and tucked it behind her ear. "This is the only way I can reach you, my love." _

_ Belle lifted her head and dove straight into two pools of rich chocolate, speckled with gold and reflecting only love for her. Her hands roamed everywhere while they glided together across the floor: his chest, rising and falling serenely; his neck, where his heart beat under her fingertips; his face, so that he may never look away from her for an instant. A secretive smile was waiting for her and her lips eagerly sought his out. The power of true love electrified her blood and chased away every ounce of heartache. _

_ "Rumpel," she gasped when their lips finally parted. She rested her head on his shoulder, satisfied to have him hold her for the time being. Kisses trailed over her temple, his fingers traced the length of her spine, and she savored the security he offered. "I miss you. I love you." _

_ If she could, she would dance in this ballroom with him forever. _

_ "I know, sweetheart," he whispered, his breath tickling the shell of her ear. He kissed the lobe of her ear. She leaned into every kiss, knowing that this dream would not last. At some point, it would end and she wanted to take pleasure in every one he gave. A fresh wave of tears pricked her eyelids. His hands soothingly rubbed her back. "Shh...I'm here now. I did what I had to do, Belle, to save you and Bae." _

_ Belle understood that and respected it, even if it was taking her heart longer to accept it. Once more, she looked up at him and smiled. This one was not forced. It was the first real smile she wore in a while._

_ "You were brave, Rumpel. I'm proud of you," she said. His composure crumbled, his eyes widening in awe and affection. She doubted anyone had ever uttered those words in his presence before. He kissed her forehead and then let his lips hover above her own. _

_ "Thank you, Belle. You have no idea how much it means to me to hear you say that. You were always the brave one." He spun her in his arms. "There isn't much time, I'm afraid. If I had my way, you'd stay here in my arms for ages. For now, you need to heed every word I pass to you." _

_ Belle's head bobbed against his. Already she hung on every syllable that fell from his mouth, storing them deep in the crevices of her mind for safekeeping. Two of his fingers tipped her chin, urging her to gaze directly into his eyes as he spoke. _

_ "This is very important, dearie. You'll not want to hear it, but I must tell you all the same. In time, perhaps you'll listen. Here it is: my dying wish. I want you and Bae to move on and lead happy lives together. Do not let your suffering define the rest of your days." Belle tensed in his arms, but he remained firm on the matter. "I know you believe it's impossible right now. I myself am no stranger to misery. The pain of a broken heart may never heal, but it can be eased little by little until the sting is not so noticeable. Be strong, be brave, but most of all, let go. No good can come from living in the past, Belle." _

_ Warm moisture flooded over her eyelids and his mouth hurried to catch each drop that fell. She shook her head numbly. She lost Rumpel once; it was too painful to imagine a world where he did not exist. _

_ "I don't know if I can," she moaned, clinging all the harder to him. Her hand rose to trace his jaw, pushing aside the curtain of his hair in the process. "After everything we've already been through, to think you're no longer with me-"_

_ "I will be," he promised. Turning his head, he kissed her palm. "I never cared much for my physical body. Don't you see? You are my heart. You've always been and always will be. I may not be with you physically, but I can live within your memory, within every heartbeat, within every one of your sweetest dreams. You are the bravest person I ever had the fortune to meet. Don't be afraid. You must continue living. Live for Bae, not for me. He's the one in need of your love now." _

_ His words burned into her brain and wove into a prayer that she would recite dutifully. Once more, his lips captured hers in a chaste kiss that left her trembling. _

_ "I love you," he breathed into her ear. He twirled her across the marble floor. Somehow, they both knew the steps and had the energy to dance endlessly, if they so desired it. Belle kissed him back, pouring her entire being into it. _

_ "I love you." _I always will, _she added silently. His lips quirked at the corners and she wondered if he perceived her innermost thoughts within this dreamscape. Just in case, she repeated it three more times. _I love you, I love you, I love you. I always will.

_And they danced. _

_..._

The next day, Belle awoke with her pillow damp with tears and a newfound strength in her bones. The taste of Rumpel's kisses clung to her mouth and she remembered every word he said. Move on. Let go. Deep down, she knew he was right. Letting go did not have to mean forgetting; it simply meant starting anew.

She found Bae waiting for her on the porch outside, his fist poised to knock on the door. It was almost as though he never left. He smiled when he saw her and this time she returned it readily.

"Morning. I thought you might like to join me for some breakfast. You know, start the day off on the right foot," he said. He gestured to the pathway and she began to walk with him. Maybe it was the fragments of her dream lingering in her mind, but the world did not appear as gray as it had the day before. It would take some time for her heart to stop hurting, but it did not seem an impossibility. _Be strong, be brave. Let go. _

"Actually, there's someplace else I'd rather go today," she announced, pulling Bae up short by the elbow. Her gaze wandered to the end of the street. Beyond the construction of the town were the sprawling green fields that belonged to the Enchanted Forest.

"Where?" _The Dark Castle, _the name nearly leaped from her mouth. She and Bae could build a steady life there together, let their wounds heal, and recover from the tragedies they both endured. Perhaps one day they could learn to be happy again.

She smiled.

"Home."

...

_**Of course, I would like to take a moment to thank those that reviewed recently. I do love pleasing the Rumbellers. Cheers to Huntress4455, Grace5231973, PeersHitInMoscow, NinaGold, CharlotteAshmore, and crazykat77. **_


	11. Nostalgia

_**A/N: **__**Hello, Rumbellers. Sorry if the last one-shot (which also happened to be the first one of 2014) was a bit emotional for Rumbelle, especially if it was too soon after the winter finale. But I hope this one will cheer everyone up. It may be a little sexy, but nothing too bad. All I could picture while writing this one was Rumpel at the end of Miller's Daughter, looking quite good without his tie. (-; Enjoy! **_

_**Nostalgia**_

Even after nearly three decades, Rumpelstiltskin was a mystery she could never finish unraveling. Shortly after the curse broke, she moved in with him amidst the promise that they could start over in their relationship. It was strange and thrilling to be given a second chance with her true love and she could tell he felt the same way. Whenever he thought she wasn't watching, he would stop and study her in awed silence, as though convinced that she must be a dream that would dissolve at any moment. He would use any excuse to touch her, sending sparks of excitement shooting along her spine. Belle was certain he was double-checking that she was one hundred percent real, breathing, and living.

She eventually fell into the same pattern of behavior, admiring every detail of his lean, graceful figure, comparing the man before her eyes with the memory of the Dark One that made her a maid in his castle. In her heart, she knew it was the same Rumpelstiltskin, but it did not _look_ like the Rumpel she had known once upon a time. The imp that frightened the beings of the Enchanted Forest acted like a monster on the outside because he believed he truly was. He had wiry hair, serpentine amber eyes, and an unnatural gray complexion that appeared speckled with gold in the sunlight.

In this world, Rumpel had regained his human form, his face that of a human man and his skin healthy in its glow. His hair was softer and streaked with gray near his temples to indicate his age, his eyes soulful and rich brown in shade, and his limp had returned to his leg, forcing him to carry a cane. He was still sly in nature and skillful with words, but this version of him was more reserved, serene, his shoulders not so strained with burdens.

It did not quite _sound_ like the Rumpel she remembered, either. There were no insane giggles, no extravagant displays of eccentricity, no flourishing bows joined with a roll of the tongue to announce his presence as the darkest of all beings. Instead, his voice was deeper, his accent silkier, his words selected carefully. He sounded…normal.

It was very odd, indeed. At times, it felt like he was a completely different man that only bore the same unforgettable name. It shouldn't have mattered, but for some reason…it gnawed away at her curious mind, refusing to leave her be. Was she sincerely missing the little imp she once knew?

She loved him, she truly did. There was no question about that and never did she submit herself to second thoughts. Nothing made her happier than the opportunity of a future with Rumpel. She returned his kisses and smiles easily enough. It was simply a lot to take in at the moment.

The most notable difference was his choice of attire. The false personality of Mr. Gold had religiously worn expensive suits day in and out, a style that Rumpel had carried on after he awoke if only to maintain appearances. It was one behavior that Storybrooke Rumpel and Dark One Rumpel had in common besides making deals: appearance was key. Belle had taken note of it time and again while working in his castle. When the Dark One wished to be perceived as the sinister monster, he would appear to his customers in seductively dark dragonhide cloaks and vests. When he was summoned by royals, he donned his best silks and leather, refusing to have any association with the lowly creatures that bowed down to those high-born. If ever a peasant dared to speak his name out of desperation, he would materialize in more sensible clothing instead of placing himself on a pedestal far above their heads. Rumpel always favored the peasants over the royals, having derived from the same miserable, overlooked class of society.

Belle found it to be a pleasant surprise when she first woke up from the curse to see Rumpel clad in a dashing suit. He certainly wore the suits well, the fine material clinging to his body in all the right places. The silk of his shirts was smooth under her fingertips, as though woven with water. She would be lying if she claimed her eyes did not wander or enjoy the view.

There was only one thing about his suits that continuously bothered her. In the passing days, it became a terrible itch she longed to scratch. She had no idea Rumpel even noticed her internal dilemma until one morning over breakfast. The first few days, her attention was devoted to the splendid meals Rumpel whipped up for her, the exquisite flavors bursting across her palate. Lately, though, she had taken to observing him in those suits. The itch persisted…

"Like what you see?" A subtle smirk hung on Rumpel's lips while he devoured his breakfast. He purposely shifted his body in the right angle that allowed a better look at what he had to offer. There was the devilish imp she adored, rising to the surface.

With her fork poised in the air, Belle smiled sadly at the swarm of memories floating through her mind. Fond memories of springtime in the Dark Castle. The playfulness subsided from his face and in its place was worry. He reached over to lightly take her hand. Her fork dropped to the plate, clattering noisily on the glass.

"Belle, is something wrong? Is the tie not my color?" His hand released her, soaring to the knot in his red tie. Belle caught his wrist before he could undo it purely out of self-consciousness. Red was one of his favorite colors to wear and he wore it well.

"You have excellent taste in suits, Rumpel, as you do most things," she reassured him. How might she make him understand the troubled thoughts in her mind? "It's just…ever since regaining my memories, I've been overwhelmed with nostalgia. I miss our world, with its sense of freedom and adventure. I miss your beautiful castle where we fell in love…"

The true memories obediently rose up from the bramble of false ones, filling Belle with insatiable longing. Rumpel's face softened and he whispered her name, calling her closer.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. As the savior, Emma has the power to bring everyone home. Soon, I promise. In the meantime, it's only natural that you feel homesick," he replied soothingly. She was grateful for his comfort, but her nails anxiously dug into the meat of her palm. Her blue eyes lowered to the knot in his tie, directly under the hollow of his throat.

Ooh, that loathsome itch…

"There is something else that's been bothering me," she blurted out. It felt good to tell him the truth. A mighty weight lifted off her chest. He perked an eyebrow, imploring her to continue. The chair screeched over the kitchen tiles as she scooted forward. Now he was only a fingertip's length away. "I miss…this."

At long last, Belle surrendered to the itch.

Before Rumpel could react, she leaned over and quickly undid the knot in his tie. The strip of silk wove through her fingers and she set it on the table, much to his astonishment. One by one, she freed each button on his shirt, poking them through their holes. Rumpel's shoulders stiffened and he was stuck in speechless wonder, but Belle refused to be deterred from her task. She pried apart the black folds of his dress shirt, exposing his bare chest.

Belle smiled victoriously. The itch had been scratched.

"I remember you often showed a little skin while prancing around your castle," she teased while admiring the sight of his human skin. It was tempting to run her fingers over it, to soak up its warmth. "You cover it up with your suits, but I think I like it better this way. Especially this spot…right here."

Belle's finger touched the patch of skin over his beating heart. It was supple and warm, just as she hoped it would be. Impulsively, she bent her head and kissed that same spot on his chest. Then she did it again, unable to resist the velvet stretch of skin across her lips. It made her mouth tingle in a good way. Rumpel's head dropped back and he moaned deeply. His hand cradled the back of her head, holding her in place. What he did not seem to realize was that she was not yet ready to stop.

Rumpel chuckled and the sound vibrated through his throat, along his chest, over her open mouth. She swallowed it eagerly.

"If I knew you fancied it so much, I'd have burned my collection of ties long ago," he said breathily. Belle's head lifted away, but her hands took up where her mouth left off, exploring his chest. Belle's tongue traced the curve of her lips, still coated with the taste of Rumpelstiltskin. Without the restriction of his tie, Rumpel's roguish aura swiftly returned to life.

"You should wear your suits like that more often," she suggested and even added in a small wink for good measure. She bit down on her bottom lip to staunch the laugh that bubbled up when a faint blush colored Rumpel's cheeks. Habits were hard to break, so Belle went about gathering their plates and putting them in the sink to be washed. Rumpel staggered dreamily behind her, dazed by Belle's bold request. She offered him one more kiss before he left to attend business in his pawnshop.

For the first time in Storybrooke history, the infamous dealmaker left the house sans tie.

….

_**If only Rumpel took Belle's advice and wore his suits like that more often. *sigh* As always, I would like to take the time to thank those that have read and reviewed this story. As much as I love writing these Rumbelle one-shots for myself, it makes it even better to know that there are Rumbellers out there who enjoy them as well. Thank you for the support and requests that I keep writing. It means the world to me. **_


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